An Arrangement of a Lifetime
by moomolie1709
Summary: He needed her to pose as his girlfriend, and she needed to make her unfaithful ex jealous. This was supposed to be a simple trade between business partners, but things between them grow more complicated than either of them anticipated. AU, Bellarke.
1. Chapter 1

_Dr. Clarke Griffin thought her life was perfect, until she discovered her boyfriend had betrayed her. To exact her redemption, she acquires the help of a brooding but charming cop. But what starts out as a formal deal turns into something so much more. _

**A/N: **This story was inspired by a lovely post made by Bellamy-Griffin.

**Chapter 1**

Clarke had always been ambitious.

Since she was a young child, she knew she wanted to be a doctor—just like her mother. Being a surgeon took dedication, hard work, and above all else ambition. Everything else was simply a distraction from the ultimate objective.

All twenty-five years she spent in this world had been spent building her way into the medical field. It was her dream, her everything.

And that dream came true. She was completing her residency at Mount Weather Memorial, one of the most reputable hospitals churning out the most promising surgeons. She was training to be a general surgeon; not because she wasn't good at any specialty in particular, but because she was good at all of them.

She was going to make a name for herself. She would save the lives of her patients and change the lives of everyone around them.

Her professional life took precedent for a long time, but that didn't mean her personal life lacked anything.

Her two best friends from medical school ended up in Mount Weather Memorial too. Clarke, Octavia, and Jasper were always seen as a strange trio. Clarke was soft-spoken and cool-tempered, Octavia was defensive and opinionated, and Jasper was awkward and clumsy. But as different as they were, they cared for each other like family.

When she first started working here, she was expecting three long years of pure and unadultered work. She never thought she'd find love.

But then she met Finn Collins.

Finn was the first person in a long time who broke through her shell. With a combination of charisma, flirtatious banter, and a gorgeous grin, he won her over and convinced her against her better judgment. Mixing business with pleasure was definitely a bad idea, but she decided to trust him and let him in.

Clarke wasn't one to take risks. She was thoughtful and methodological, always aware of her next move. She knew that Finn was smart, gentle, and thoughtful. So it made sense that, at least on the surface, that he would make the perfect boyfriend.

He was her first serious boyfriend, her first everything.

They had been together for nearly two years now, with their anniversary date looming.

With a perfect boyfriend and her two best friends working by her side at the job of her dreams, Clarke was living a life better than she could have every imagined. The sky was the limit, and she was flying so high that she felt invincible.

Little she know that she was flying too close to the Sun.

**-p-**

"Clarke?"

The pretty blonde turned around, her clear blue eyes landing on the petite, darker haired girl behind her. The two young women were dressed in their standard white coat uniforms. Octavia wore her hair down, but Clarke always pulled hers back into a loose braid.

"Hey," she greeted, closely examining the dark circles and un-brushed hair. "Running late?"

They were in the hospital locker room. They had about five minutes before they had to report to work that morning.

Octavia sat down on the wooden bench and rushed to pull her boots off and replace them with white sneakers. She tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, "Yeah, I guess you could say that. My brother's back in town and he's staying at my place for a couple days before he gets settled into his new apartment."

Clarke had heard about Octavia's half-brother for years, but she'd never met him.

She glanced down at her watch. "Here," she smiled, extending her arm to offer a new cup of coffee, "You need it more than me."

Octavia took one look at the coffee and gladly accepted it. "Clarke, you're a life-saver, you know that?"

"That's what I'm here for," she laughed.

They chuckled together for a moment before Clarke looked around her. There were other residents there, all about ready to leave. Finn had taken the day off, so he wouldn't be in the hospital today. But someone else was missing.

"Where's Jasper?"

Octavia had already stood up, but paused and then shrugged. "I haven't seen him."

Jasper might have been a hot mess in the early hours of the day, but he hardly ever showed up late, much less not show up at all. Moving quickly, Clarke pulled out her phone and dialed the number, then putting the phone to her ear.

After a series of rings, the other line picked up.

"_Hello?"_

It was Jasper's voice, but something was definitely up. They'd known each other for years, they could tell when something was wrong. Octavia overheard and picked up on the same thing and stepped in closer to listen.

"Where are you?" Clarke inquired carefully. All the other doctors had left the locker room by now, so she put him on speakerphone to let Octavia hear. "Are you okay?"

"_Yeah," _Jasper paused for a while, _"I'm fine. But I have something to tell you."_

Both girls exchanged a look of confusion, waiting for him to continue.

"_Actually, it's Monty who needs to tell you something he saw. I'll put him on,"_

Clarke silently mouthed a question to Octavia while they heard the phone shuffling between hands. She didn't understand what Jasper's boyfriend had to do with her. Monty was this kind-hearted and genius researcher who worked at the pharmaceutical lab down the street. He was hilarious and good company, but it was unusual for him to ever speak to Clarke in place of Jasper.

"_Hey, Clarke, you still there?"_

"Yeah, of course. I'm still here. Go ahead, Monty."

"_Okay," _he look an audible sharp breath, _"I was at the Café on Washington Street to stop for breakfast," _another pause, _"and I was just waiting in line when I saw something I think you need to know about."_

The suspense was getting at her, and she held her breath.

Clarke was not unaccustomed to bad news in her life. She handled the obstacles in her life with determination and courage. She always had her armor on, ready to fight her way through the bad to win the good.

But no matter her experiences in the past, she was nowhere near prepared for what was about to come out.

"_I saw Finn with another woman. He was kissing her, holding her hand, and getting awfully close. It didn't look like the first time they've been together."_

And just like that, her perfect life seemed to crash down around her.

**End Chapter 1**

**A/N: **I hope you enjoyed this first installment. Please leave a review if you would like me to continue.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"I'm going to kill him."

Clarke was at a loss for words, but Octavia wasn't.

"I'm going to string him up and make sure the whole hospital knows what a creep he is!" The brunette shouted at the phone, as if Finn was on the other end.

This was unimaginable. It wasn't in the realm of reality, none of it was. Finn was supposed to be her prince in shining armor. He was adventurous but squeaky clean—he wouldn't hurt a fly. He couldn't possibly have cheated on her.

"You know what? I'm going find his two-timing ass right now," Octavia proclaimed, walking toward the door with determination that could scare a heavyweight fighter.

"Wait, Octavia!" Clarke called after her, grabbing the girl's arm, "Our rounds started ten minutes ago, we can't leave now."

She scoffed, "Like hell I can't."

"No, you can't," Clarke crossed her arms over her chest, averting her gaze to the tiled floor, "If anyone is saying anything to Finn, it'll be me." She took a deep breath, not realizing she'd been holding one this entire time.

"Okay, fair enough," Octavia resigned through clenched teeth.

"Let's just talk about it later, I can't handle this at work," Clarke shook her head.

The darker haired girl agreed, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Come here," she pulled Clarke into an embrace, "I'm here for anything and everything."

"I know," she acknowledged, "and I love you for it."

A bittersweet smile passed her lips as they parted.

Octavia glanced up at the clock on the far wall, "We better get going, or we'll get our heads served on a silver platter for the director."

"Yeah," she agreed, "But you go ahead first, I have something to do really quickly. I'm just going to the restroom to freshen up,"

The other girl raised a skeptical eyebrow, "You sure?"

"Of course," Clarke put on her signature smile. It was assuring, strong, and unfaltering—but not entirely truthful. She used it whenever she needed to convince someone she was all right, but Octavia knew her well enough to see through it. "Go, I'll catch up."

Octavia nodded reluctantly, leaving her companion behind.

Clarke closed her eyes as soon as she left the room. She needed to collect herself. Letting her personal life interfere at the hospital was unacceptable. She had to be stronger than this, better than this.

She was going to get some water from one of the break rooms and stepped into the hallway. But as soon as she walked out, something hard collided with her body.

In an instant, the air knocked out of her lungs, leaving her breathless. She felt herself falling, her body suspended in the air for a single moment before an arm shot out and caught her from colliding with the ground.

It took a while for her to realize what had happened.

She immediately apologize to the stranger she ran into. Looking up, clear blue eyes crashed into deep, intense charcoal brown ones.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she whispered, as his hand behind her back eased her gently back to her feet.

She knew she was staring, but she couldn't stop herself. This man was about a head taller than her, with a dark olive complexion and a chiseled jaw. He was strangely handsome, dressed in dark pants and a simple gray T-shirt.

"Watch where you're going," he looked her up and down, pausing for a second. If anything, he looked annoyed, a scowl present across his mouth.

And without uttering another word in response, he just turned around and carried in the direction he was initially heading in.

Her eyes followed his disappearing back as he made his way down the hall before making a right turn toward the surgical unit.

It was then that she noticed her heart beating a little bit faster than usual.

**-p-**

He had his fists clenched at his sides, so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

He received the call last night and took the first flight out. After showing up at his little sister's apartment unannounced, he was now rampaging through the hospital to find the right room number.

It had been eight years since he'd been home, and seven years since he last saw Connor.

The courts awarded Emily full custody at the time. She was a waitress at the local diner with a steady income, while he was just this volatile and reckless young man who seemed to break everything in the path.

They dated throughout high school and for a couple more years after he went to New York. Somehow he managed to get a scholarship for a university out there. And while they tried to maintain their relationship long distance, circumstance ruined their once strong affection for each other.

She hated how distant he was, never quite accepting his guarded nature. It was all the little things first, but soon enough their arguments escalated to the point of no return. They broke up the following summer.

He started sleeping with random girls on one-night stands, committing himself to a life without commitment. He had nearly forgotten his ex-girlfriend when he went home for the holidays. They ran into each other at the convenience store, and her swollen belly filled in any blanks he'd been missing.

Emily didn't grant him any visiting privileges. She didn't want their son growing up around him, and at first he accepted her decision. He didn't think he'd make a good parent—his mom and dad had never been around growing up. He was selfish and dangerous.

The only contact he had with Connor was the moment he was born and the checks he sent in the mail every month since.

He didn't even know what color his eyes were.

He was so distracted by all the thoughts running through his head that he half collided with some blonde doctor. She doubled back and he instinctively caught her mid-air. She muttered something to him, but he wasn't listening. He just barreled past her and continued his hunt for the right destination.

He stopped a nurse, flashed his badge, and asked where a Ms. Sterling was staying. She pointed him across the floor and he made it there in less than a minute later.

Without thinking, he shoved his way through the door. A few hostile faces greeted him as he entered.

Her family was never fond of him. They still saw him as the bad boy with an even worse influence over their daughter.

Little did they know that he was a long way from the kid they once knew. He dropped out of school but landed a job as a rookie cop in the city. He acclimated immediately, outperforming his better-trained peers and standing out to his superior officers. He finally found something that felt natural, that he was good at it. Before he realized it, he'd been given a position as a rookie detective.

There was some talk about him as a prodigy. Some even believed that he'd make it one day as the police commissioner.

"Bellamy," Emily's father said dryly, scrutinizing and stepping in the younger man's way. "What are you doing here?"

He ignored the question and countered with his own, "Where's Connor?"

"He's at school," a weak voice answered.

She never told him that she was sick. And after nearly four years, the cancer had finally spread throughout her lungs to her other organs. She was dying.

"It's okay, he can stay," Emily beckoned from her bed.

Bellamy would never make any outward indication of it, but he was shocked by how different she looked. The youthful glow and cheery smile she wore when they were teenagers was gone. Now all she had was sallow, yellow skin and a blank look in her eyes. Different tubes and wires connected her arms to a multitude of machines.

"How bad is it?" He asked, lowering his gaze so it met hers.

The other family members in the room had scattered outside by now, leaving the old couple alone in some privacy. Bellamy looked back, finding a chair and sitting down in it next to her.

"Pretty bad," she laughed humorlessly. "You know I wouldn't have called you otherwise,"

"Yeah, you have a habit of letting me know about things last-minute,"

"I see some things never change," she smirked. He'd always be a sarcastic asshole.

She'd always been so in love with him. But she couldn't fight the feeling he didn't love her quite the same she did. He'd argue it wasn't in his nature to love her like she wanted, but she didn't believe that.

Emily sighed, "Doctors give me about three more months,"

Three months.

"I'm using this time to tie up loose ends," she stopped herself before finishing, "You have a right to know that I'm giving my parents custody of Connor."

That was what made him snap.

"No way," he pressed his lips together, "No way in hell, Emily. Your folks are freak show, he's not living with them."

Her family was weirdly strict, concerningly controlling. That environment was stifling, it was no place for a kid to grow up.

She looked away, fighting away the stinging that welled up in her eyes. "It's not like I have anyone else to give him to. The next option is foster care and—"

"No," he repeated sternly. His childhood was spent bouncing around from house to house, family to family. He didn't want that for him and Octavia and he certainly didn't want that for his son either.

"You think I want to leave him?" she raised her voice, her words breaking, "You think I want to die? I'm trying to do what's best for him, just like I always have."

He didn't mean to say it, but the words seemed to spill out anyway.

His head was hung and his shoulders slumped, but he raised his line of vision.

"Give him to me."

She just looked at him, eyes wide and her mouth wide apart.

A cackle left the back of her throat and she kept laughing, until his grave expression resonated with her.

"Oh my god, you're serious."

Maybe some things had changed. Or at least, maybe they could.

**End Chapter 2 **

**A/N: **Please leave a review if you'd like me to continue! Thanks for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You've lost your mind," Emily bobbed her head sideways, "You cannot possibly think that you're in any position to take care of a child."

"Why not?"

He looked her in the eye, unfaltering. He couldn't comprehend what he was saying, but he knew he had to say something so he kept going.

"You're Bellamy Blake," she explained simply, "You're incredibly stubborn, narrow-minded, and all around unstable. You do whatever the hell you want."

"It's not like that anymore," he countered flatly.

"Really?" she questioned, exasperated, "Do you have a job, a house, a car, or even a girlfriend who doesn't take her clothes off for a living?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, "I've got a job and a place of my own back in New York."

"And here? Connor can't just get up and move."

Something inside him kept him pushing. It wasn't like he knew his own son, but for whatever reason he suddenly felt like this was the last opportunity that he could. Emily's family hated him more than she did; he wouldn't even be able to dream of seeing the kid ever.

"Then I'll get a new job, buy a house, and get a car."

He stopped.

"Does he know who I am?" He flexed his hand out in his lap.

"Bellamy," she began, but stopped, "Yeah, he knows you exist."

That fact alone made him sick. "I want to see him, soon."

"You really want to do this?"

"Yeah, I do."

Emily examined him with a care, taking in his appearance. Sure, he could say all he wanted, but Bellamy had always been a smooth and charming talker.

"So you'll get a new job, buy a house out here, and get a car?"

He nodded in confirmation, "I will."

"And what about the girlfriend?"

He wasn't lying about the job or the house or the car. Those things were easily attainable. He had money now, and he had the credentials anyone in this city's police force would hire in a heartbeat. But now he was just lying through his teeth.

"I have one."

"Seriously?" She knew how Bellamy's antics were. "Since when?"

He shrugged, "A few months ago."

She narrowed her eyes, "Okay, tell me about her, then."

And then Bellamy did something he never did: panic. He was a phenomenal liar, but this was more difficult than any other falsehood he'd conceived.

"She's a doctor."

**-p-**

Bellamy emerged from Emily's room a few moments later.

After his short introduction to his nonexistent doctor girlfriend with a love for children, Emily was impressed. She said she'd have to think about his offer, but he could see that she was seriously considering.

Even she could see that her family wasn't the best to raise their son.

He didn't even bother to dignify her parents' glares with a glance in their direction. He marched past them in true Blake style and took his phone out of his pocket. He needed to find Octavia.

But before he even dialed her number, two familiar hands reached from behind and placed themselves over his eyes. "Guess who?"

"Hey, O."

He turned around to face his younger sibling. She'd grown up so fast, it was like she was never the scared little girl she used to be.

"Hey, Bell."

His eyes fell on her white coat and blue scrubs. "Nice stethoscope,"

"Admit it, you want one," she laughed, taking the opportunity to jump up and hug him. They had always been close growing up. Since he moved away, things were different. But now that he was finally home, she hoped they would reconnect. "How's Emily?" she asked as they pulled away.

He had briefly explained why he was back when he first arrived, but nothing in detail.

She certainly didn't know that he was volunteering to take custody of the son he never took the effort to know.

"I have a lot to tell you."

"Lucky for you, big brother," she smiled, "I've got the time. I'm on my lunch break."

He was going to respond with something obnoxious to fuel their sibling dynamic when Octavia froze in place. Her eyes widened, staring at something behind him. He was about to follow her gaze when she stopped him.

"Wait, don't move."

"What?"

Her eyes narrowed, "All I see is a dead man walking."

Finn Collins just made his way through the Mount Weather Memorial's main entrance.

**-p-**

"How are you holding up?"

Clarke sat in the doctor's lounge couch, sipping a cup of tea to help with her nerves. Jasper finally made it to the hospital and found his friend alone to with her thoughts.

"I'm getting by," she sighed. She'd never been so naïve as to hope for the best—she never really believed in the cosmic universe doing what was right in her favor. Before she met Finn, she knew her place and her feelings. But now it all just felt so jumbled. She was lying to herself.

Jasper leaned back on one of the counters along the wall, looking closely at her. "There's no way you could have known,"

"I should have known," she breathed out, and then whispered inaudibly to herself, "I'm Clarke Griffin, I'm always supposed to know."

He pressed his lips together, thinking of what to say. "Maybe Monty misunderstood what he saw. There are always things that can be misinterpreted,"

Clarke smiled, thinking of how sweet Jasper was to try and make that innocent speculation. "Maybe," she said.

"When does your shift end? I'll walk you home."

"It's fine, I'm thinking of leaving early anyway," her eyes trailed to her watch. It was only one in the afternoon and she usually worked eighteen hours shifts.

"Why are you leaving early?" a familiar voice asked from the door.

Both Clarke and Jasper nearly snapped their necks as they whipped their heads to see him standing there leaning on the frame.

Finn would always be Finn, and maybe this was what made it hurt so much.

He stood there with a smile across his face, his longer hair tucked behind his ears. He usually wore it longer, but these past few months he'd cut it short.

"I'm going to leave," Jasper blurted out unnaturally, his eyes flipping rapidly back and forth from Clarke to the other boy. He stumbled his way out of the room, letting the door close on his way out.

Finn raised an eyebrow, looking in the direction Jasper had fled in. "What's going on with him?"

Clarke had been dreading this moment all day. But now something in his presence made her forget all the worry that spun in her head. It didn't make any sense, but she had put all of her faith in him.

This wasn't the type of person that she was—instead it was the kind of person she wished she was. She desperately wanted to believe in the best, that Finn was truly the person she'd painted him to be.

"Nothing," she laughed nervously, "He's just having an off day,"

Finn was beaming at her. He walked over and took a seat next to her.

He was everything she wanted to be. He was peaceful, he was calm, and he was happy.

"I thought you were taking the day off," she looked up at him, his face only inches from his. The words scratched as they left her throat, "What are you doing in the hospital?"

"Oh," he tensed, his arm underneath her flexing slightly, "I did, but I just wanted to see you."

Like her whole chest was caving in, she was gasping for air. She coughed into her arm out loud.

"Hey," he sat forward, his hand on her back, soothing her with circles, "Here, drink this," he handed her the cup of tea she'd set down on the table.

The liquid was lukewarm now, too bitter in her mouth.

"I don't know how you drink this stuff," he took the empty cup from her once she had finished, "All that caffeine,"

He didn't drink tea of coffee. He was this earthy, free-spirited guy. And like she said, he would never hurt a fly. But at the same time, that didn't mean he was incapable of it.

"Let's get out of here," he offered, rising to his feet, "I have the rest of the day off, and you're planning on leaving early. We'll grab dinner,"

Something twisted in her gut, like someone had stabbed her and was twisting the knife inside of her. But through the pain, she managed to hide it and slap on a smile. She couldn't look him in the eye, "Okay,"

This wasn't her. The person she knew herself to be would never do this, ignoring the truth when it was right in front of her. She couldn't even bring herself to confront him.

She followed his lead, standing up too. "Just give me a few minutes so I can get changed," she had a change of clothes in her locker.

"Yeah, of course," Finn smiled again, "I'll call and make a reservation. You in the mood for anything in particular?"

"No, I'm not feeling that choosy," she answered solemnly, her back to him as she headed for the door.

She was so ashamed. Couldn't she even muster up enough courage to ask him about it?

He had his phone out in his hand, browsing the number of a few restaurants they frequented on dates before. The sentence dripped from his lips, and he didn't even know its implications. It was so quiet, like it was to himself. But she heard it. "I'll have anything but breakfast food,"

And just like that, any hope she tricked herself into having was violently ripped from her.

"What did you just say?" the blonde had stopped in her tracks.

He looked up at her, taken aback by her tone. "What?"

She swore the room was spinning, "What did you just say, about breakfast?"

He still didn't understand, "I'm just saying I don't want breakfast food for dinner tonight."

"Why not?" she was insistent now, her heart racing so fast that it threatened to burst out of her chest. She may have been a doctor and known something like that was impossible, but it didn't stop her from feeling every bit of it.

"I had a big breakfast," he coughed to clear his throat.

"At the café on Washington Street?"

She didn't say anything for a while after that, and neither did he. It was like time had froze right then and there. They just stared at each other, and with every passing second things started to become more clear.

He knew that she knew.

And from the horror on his face, she knew that what she'd heard that morning on the phone was true. All the confirmation she needed was written across his expression.

She bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. She headed for the exit.

"Wait, Clarke," he caught her arm, "Just wait, let me explain."

She tore herself out of his grip. She just wanted to run.

"Clarke," he started again, but before he could finish, she had swiveled around.

All she wanted to was cry. Her eyes stung like needles had been stuck into them. But for the first time in a long while, she was doing something true to herself.

"Don't, Finn," she stopped him, her tone dangerously even and low. She sucked in, "It's okay."

He looked at her, puzzled. But then she made added more clarification.

"It's over."

It was a statement, definitive. Not a tear in sight, not on the outside.

His jaw was slack, this wasn't what he meant to happen. He cared about Clarke, he loved her. The past two years had been the best of his life, he didn't know anyone like her. She amazed him, she was his world.

It was one mistake, but it was a mistake he'd be paying for the rest of his time.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she put her hand up to silence him. "I don't need to hear it." She pressed her lips together into a fine line, "Don't follow me, don't call me, and don't talk to me."

She pushed through the door to the hall without glancing behind her. Her pace quickened as she walked the halls. The adrenaline rushed through her blood. The high she was feeling almost masked the sharp pain shooting across her heart.

But she didn't even have the time to process her own pain when she heard shouting from around the corner.

"No way you'll brainwash her into doing this!"

"Go to hell, Murphy!" a deeper voice growled.

The sound of shoving and the crash of tables and metal against tile resonated through the halls. Clarke instinctively ran to find its source.

She arrived at the scene of two men, both angry and both with their fists balled. One had his arm around the other's neck, pushing the other guy into a wall. They were having a bar brawl in the middle of one of the most prestigious hospitals in the region—her hospital.

"Hey! Break it up!" she screamed. And when they didn't seem to listen, she had enough. "I said break it up!"

Clarke didn't even care, making her way in between the two males and shoving the aggressor away from the man pushed against the wall.

At that point, security had arrived and pulled the fighters away from each other. She wore a scowl across her otherwise delicate features. She was practically panting when Octavia came running in.

"Crap," the dark haired girl had the palm of her hand against her forehead, "He's such an idiot."

The girls made eye contact. Clarke wordlessly inquired what she meant, but Octavia didn't have a chance to answer. From the corner of her eye, Clarke watched as the man she tore off the other whispered something in the security guard's ear.

The guard then bowed his head, dropped his hands, and let just the guy go free.

"What the hell?"

Octavia tried to stop her from storming off to confront them, but she was too late.

"Officer, what are you doing? Put him in cuffs, he just assaulted someone!"

But the guard ignored her, shooting her a sheepish look before walking away. When she turned around, she was greeted by his smug smirk. He was looming too close to her.

"That was brave, Princess. Getting into a fight like that all by yourself, you should have brought back up."

She recognized him from before, the guy she ran into this morning.

Her lip curled slightly back. This man was making her blood boil. "Listen to me, you—"

"Clarke!" Octavia stepped in between them, forcing a laugh and hoping to make light the situation. The brunette looked behind her, reaching up and placing her hand on his shoulder.

"This is my brother, Bellamy."

**End Chapter 3**

A/N: This has been a lot of fun to write so far! If you would like me to continue, please leave a review.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Clarke blinked a few times, taking in the situation before realizing what was happening.

And as much as she wanted to be restrained and polite to her friend's beloved sibling and look the other way, she couldn't hold it in. She was having a particularly bad day.

"Are you insane?" she asked, her eyes narrowed as she addressed him directly. "What are you doing picking fights in a hospital? There are really sick people that require medical attention and don't need anything else endangering their health,"

Octavia moved to calm her friend, but not fast enough.

Bellamy scoffed, this girl was riding on her high horse. "Don't be so dramatic," he stretched his arms out and gestured to their surroundings, "No harm done, everyone's fine,"

The blonde sidestepped Octavia, and in a split second she found herself standing off with the man she had unknowingly bumped into hours earlier. "Your lip is bleeding," she stated, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows in satisfaction as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb.

She was right; he was bleeding.

"Damn it, Murphy," he cursed under his breath. He made a note to pay that coward a visit. He looked back at the girl in front of her, half amused and half annoyed by the intensity of her glare. She had heart, he'd give her that.

So he stepped forward, even closer. He was sure it made her uncomfortable, but she didn't even flinch. "Maybe you should see if it's okay, then,"

He smirked as she rolled her eyes.

She groaned and shot a look to Octavia who stood back watching the entire exchange. "I'm going home early."

"Wait," Octavia stopped her, "What happened with—"

"Tell Jasper to bring the wine over tonight," was the only answer Clarke provided.

It was enough to communicate that things with Finn didn't turn out well.

Octavia smiled weakly. "I'll bring the ice cream,"

Clarke nodded in confirmation and then proceeded to walk away from the siblings.

Octavia then returned her attention to her brother, but noticed that his eyes were still fixed on the other girl. She promptly threw her right elbow into his gut.

His eyes shot to her. The strike didn't hurt, but it got his attention.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"Your friend's wound a little tight, you know that?" he countered, unashamed.

"I'm serious, Bell. You can flash your badge and sweet talk your way with the security guard, but Emily's not going to jump at the news that you're getting into a fight with Murphy."

He closed his eyes, suddenly reminded of the reason he was here to begin with. He had to be on his best behavior, at least now. Old habits died hard, and the scuffle with his estranged friend only supported that. "I'll explain what happened to Emily. She's not any more excited at the prospect of leaving Connor with her family than me. She's giving me a chance, I'm sure of it."

"Whatever you say," she answered skeptically, before picking a small towel of a nurse's cart and tossing it into his chest. "Go clean yourself up. Try not to get into trouble while I finish work."

He grinned, realizing that Octavia wasn't just old enough to look after herself now, but that she was trying to look after him too. "When did you grow up so fast?"

"Shut up."

**-p-**

She didn't cry when she got home.

Clarke had trained herself since she was a child to hold the tears back when they felt like they'd come pouring out. She was a master of self-control, strong in the face of adversity, and of heartbreak. So getting cheated on and dumping her boyfriend should have just been water under the bridge, but God did it still hurt.

She came home, absent-mindedly slipped out of her heels, wrapped herself in a robe, and sat herself down on he couch. She kind of just laid there, doing nothing but thinking.

She ran about a thousand scenarios down in her head.

What had she done wrong? She'd always tried to be the best girlfriend, the best lover, the best partner. She respected Finn and gave him everything—yet he obviously didn't feel the same.

She'd been renting this crappy apartment since she'd moved here for her residency. It was quaint, small but manageable. She usually kept it in decent condition for the few hours she spent in it before passing out on her bed.

Now it just felt lonely.

Her empty stare was starting to bore a hole in the wall when her doorbell rang. She couldn't bring herself to answer the door, so she just waited for them to let themselves in. She always left a spare key underneath her umbrella stand. Eventually the sound of arguing voices and jingling of metal came through.

"Hey, Clarke?"

It was Jasper. He grunted as Octavia shoved past him, placing an array of comfort food in the kitchen before plopping herself on the couch next to Clarke.

"Hey," she whispered.

Clarke sat up and accepted her embrace wordlessly.

"I'm so sorry, Clarke," Octavia whispered.

Jasper came and joined them a moment later.

She'd never been on board with Finn. He was one of those prince charming types who promised girls the world. Octavia had a rough childhood and learned how to spot a liar when she saw one. But seeing Clarke so happy, she bit her tongue.

People always said that no one would ever be good enough for your best friends, but it was sort of true. Octavia was even still skeptical about Monty, she couldn't help it. Some might call her overprotective, but she was just taking care of her own.

That was one thing Bellamy had managed to ingrained in her growing up.

"We wish this didn't happen to you," Jasper added quietly.

Clarke had accepted him when everyone else was ready to abandon him. He was weird, awkward, and hard to understand. But she patted him on the back one day after class and offered to tutor him before their next exam. And then she introduced him to Octavia who transformed his timidity into confidence. They helped him out of a dark place and they meant the world to him.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding onto each other.

Clarke sucked in her breath, lifting her shoulders and letting out a little laugh. "I hope you guys brought chocolate chip ice cream,"

Octavia laughed.

"She brought the whole grocery store," Jasper answered in her stead.

It became a night of endless drinking, eating, and reminiscing. Octavia led a roast against Finn while Jasper and Clarke raised their glasses with every word that came out of her mouth. There was dancing too.

Octavia and Jasper fell asleep in a mess of tangled limbs while Clarke climbed into her own bed upon their insistence that she needed a good night's sleep. After all, the joked, she needed her beauty rest and show Finn just what he was missing out on.

They all got up the next morning. Octavia managed to order Jasper to grab them breakfast before they headed out.

"Is this really necessary?" Jasper inquired, standing in the doorway of Clarke's bedroom watching the brunette complete her finishing touches.

Octavia turned around, the exasperation clear on her face. She had a makeup brush in one hand and a perfume bottle in the other.

"She needs to look amazing today,"

"Apparently I need to make Finn kiss the ground I walk on," Clarke finished sarcastically.

Jasper laughed, "After all, Clarke," he imitated Octavia's voice with a higher pitch, "You never know who could be falling in love with you today,"

"Careful," Octavia warned, "Mock me too much and I might leave the two of you in the cold."

Clarke smiled brightly, "We wouldn't make it a second without you,"

"And don't you forget it," the other girl reminded.

"All right ladies," Jasper interrupted, "It's time to ship out,"

They all synchronized and looked at the clock. Moving fast, Octavia put everything down and rushed to get all of her belongings together. She pushed Jasper around the apartment and scolded him on not reminding them of the time earlier.

Clarke watched her friends with the sun on her face. Together they could do anything.

**-p-**

Clarke was a pretty private person, so she didn't like her dirty laundry hanging out for everyone else to see. It had been less than a day, yet it seemed that everyone had heard about her breakup with Finn. How the news spread, she didn't know. All she knew was that she didn't like all the eyes focused on her in the locker room.

They were a known couple around here. But now everyone was wondering what spurred their separation.

"Oh my god," Octavia let out, "There he is," she whispered fiercely.

Everyone could feel the tension in the air as Finn spotted Clarke from across the room. He made his way toward her but before he could really approach her, his path was blocked. Octavia and Jasper both coordinated together and perfectly came shoulder to shoulder, their arms folded over their chests, stopping him from following Clarke who fled the scene as quickly as she could.

She didn't want to see him. Not now, at least.

Finn immediately moved to step around them, but to no avail. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Not today, buddy," Jasper shook his head.

"Not ever again," Octavia added, her chin tilted toward the ceiling.

Clarke made her way to the hall, syncing her beeper and putting it on her belt. She needed to start rounds, so she headed over to the nurses' station and picked up her chart. Since she left earlier yesterday, she had a lot of work to catch up on.

She was charged with a few more patients. One of them was a twenty-seven year old woman with stage three lung cancer. It was terminal.

Now that was someone who definitely had it worse than she was. That being said, Clarke kept her chin up. This was what she was here to do—make people better. She couldn't be broken herself.

Her feet began making slow steps to the patient's room, when she spotted something: a young boy, no older than eight.

He had dark hair and light eyes, sitting on one of the seats lined up in the hallway, watching his surroundings. He sat on one of the seats lined up in the hall. She could tell he was perceptive. She almost laughed at the little scowl that pulled down at his lips, the apathy in his gaze. His legs swung up and down from the edge of his chair.

She was no stranger to kids in the hospital, and she knew in a glance that this boy had been here quite a bit. Clarke also spent most of her childhood in the halls of a hospital building. Her mother was the definition of a workaholic, always in surgery whenever she could be. After her father passed away, all Clarke wanted to do was cling onto her only parent.

Abigail Griffin was a tough mother with high expectations. She often left Clarke by herself to wander the hospital, she was too busy to be bothered babysitting. She was always so scared, but she had to grow up pretty fast.

Clarke tilted her head slightly, examining the boy for a second when he suddenly looked up at made eye contact with her. Out of instinct, she smiled.

She tucked the clipboard under her arm and introduced herself, extending her hand. "Hi there," she paused, "I'm Doctor Griffin,"

He accepted her hand cautiously, squeezing it lightly before pulling away. "I'm Connor,"

"Nice to meet you, Connor," she got closer, joining him by sitting on the chair beside him. She didn't know why, and she couldn't explain it, but she felt this attraction to this boy.

"So, pray tell, Connor. What are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting to see my mom," he shrugged, looking down at his shoes. He wasn't used to the attention.

"Your mom," she repeated his words, and then glanced at the door and realized just who he was waiting for.

Oh yeah. Someone definitely had it worse than she did.

She took out the chart from under her arm, noting that Ms. Sterling wouldn't be up and ready for visitors for another hour.

"You know, Connor," she got closer, "Kids aren't really supposed to be left alone around here. We can't have anyone causing trouble,"

"I'm not causing trouble," he disagreed, pouting. He focused his eyes away from her.

"I know that," she said, "And that's exactly why I wanted to see if you could help me with something."

He lifted his line of vision to meet hers.

"I'm kind of trying to avoid someone right now, so I can't be where I usually am for a little bit. How do you feel about taking a tour of the hospital?"

He didn't say anything at first.

"What about a tour with a guide who has an all-access pass?" she sweetened the deal, taking her key card out to show him.

He huffed a bit, reminding himself of his mother who laid sleeping behind the wall. "How long will it take?"

"We'll be back before your mom wakes up," she assured him, "I'll take you right here as soon as she's allowed a visitor."

He just looked at her, with those big eyes.

"You promise?"

"I promise."

He was the one to stand up first, waiting for her to do the same. She almost wanted to laugh at how serious he was. "Come on," she began in the direction of the kitchen, "Why don't we grab a snack for the road first?"

Bellamy wouldn't be a detective if he didn't do some scoping first.

He'd been watching Connor since the moment his grandfather dropped him off at nine. He sat off to the side, being sure not to be seen.

The kid sure had some Blake in him, that was for sure. The frown on his face, the dark hair. He had light eyes too, just like Octavia, and just like their mother did. He was bored out of his mind waiting for a nurse to tell him he could see his mom.

Bellamy was gathering the balls to stand up and introduce himself when she came out of nowhere and beat him to it.

He saw it all.

It was so effortless for her. She flashed a smile at the boy and he was basically smitten. From what Emily mentioned, Connor was a quiet. But for whatever reason, he didn't seem to have any trouble chatting up a certain blonde doctor.

That's when the thought hit him.

He pulled his phone out, punched in a number, and waited for the other end to pick up. He was trying to get in touch with his old precinct. The people around there owed him more than a few favors, even if he was planning on leaving.

"_Blake?"_

"Hey," he didn't waste any time with semantics, "I need you to send me all the information you can find on a Clarke Griffin."

**-p-**

"And here we are," Clarke ushered the boy back to the area she first met him.

"The cancer unit," he narrated himself.

"Yeah," she confirmed, clearing her throat, "You can go on in, your mom should be ready for you now,"

But he didn't make any movement to enter the room. He just looked up at her again.

"I know the truth," he had his eyes focused on his mother's room number, "Most people don't think I know, but I do." His gaze returned to Clarke.

She took a moment to inhale. Of course he knew the truth.

From the last hour she spent with him, he demonstrated his sharpness. The precocious boy wasn't just perceptive, he was smart too.

"I've met a lot of bad doctors," he stated, "You're not one of those, are you?"

Bad doctors who probably lied to him. Doctors who probably told him anything but the truth about his mother's condition.

People thought children needed to be sheltered, to be protected from the harshness of reality. Sometimes they did need protecting, but sometimes hiding the truth did more harm than good. Especially when it involved a little boy's mother's life.

"No, I'm not," Clarke answered.

Connor stared at her, this lady who was different. She was nice to him, not just for the sake of being nice, but because it was natural.

He saw that she was sad too, just like him.

With one last look, he turned away and pushed the door open, leaving her in the hall while he greeted his ailing mother.

Clarke eventually left the cancer wing and returned to work. But for some reason she couldn't shake the image of the boy she found sitting in the hall.

**End Chapter 4**

**A/N: **Please review if you'd like me to continue. I love reading and taking in feedback!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

He was trying to make up for eight entire years of absence, and he was failing miserably. The kid would barely look at him.

"He's just shy," Emily tried to explain to Bellamy.

The boy clung to her side, avoiding the man's gaze. Bellamy was kneeling so he stood at the same eye-level, but Connor just hid behind the other side of his mother's bed.

"Connor," Emily chastised softly, "Be polite,"

"Hey, kid," Bellamy tried.

"Your remember Mr. Blake," Emily reminded, "We talked about him before."

Connor lifted his head a bit, just so his eyes were peeking out. His line of vision was narrowed, almost skeptical. "I remember," he answered quietly, "He's the man from the pictures,"

Emily wasn't a sentimental woman, but she did keep a photo album with a collection of pictures she took when she was much younger. She should have thrown them away, but she couldn't.

And Connor being the curious and nosy eight-year-old he was, managed to get his hands into the album. He was smart enough to recognize the man from the pictures and match them to his identity.

"Why is he here?" he asked his mother, not taking his eyes off Bellamy.

Emily opened her mouth to answer, but Bellamy gestured to stop her. "I got this one," he paused before concentrating on Connor. He swore he thought he was shaking, but his voice was steady. "I'm going to be around a lot more, and I thought it was about time we met properly. Don't you think, Connor?"

He extended his hand half-way, hoping the boy would take it. But the kid just stared at his hand like it was some foreign object thrust in front of him.

Slowly, as it became clear that Connor had no intention of shaking his hand, Bellamy pulled back.

Bellamy was charming. He was good with words and with people when he wanted to be. But he was being bested by the son who appeared to want nothing to do with him. The air was growing more awkward.

"Hey, Bellamy," Emily turned towards him specifically, lowering her tone, "Why don't we try this another day? He's just in a bad mood,"

"Yeah," he agreed, keeping his eyes on Connor, "Sure,"

Before he stood up, he handed Emily a folder. "All the information should be in there. The details about the house, the car, and my new job are all in there,"

He'd gone to the dealership and acquired another detective position at the station here at home. His higher-ups in New York assured that his job would be waiting for him when he returned, but he had no idea when that would even be.

He found this nice suburban house, a piece of the All-American-Dream he never thought he'd ever want to be part of. The neighborhood seemed nice enough, and he was in a rush so he took the place.

Emily took the papers from him, "You're on top of your game," she noted, examining their contents, "But when do I get to meet this gorgeous doctor girlfriend of yours?"

Bellamy still had his eyes fixed on Connor, whose eyes never left Bellamy. "She's pretty busy nowadays, but I'm working on it."

**-p-**

"Clarke!"

Finn had been looking for her for the past two days, and now he finally found her.

Octavia and Jasper had constantly and conveniently been in his way—he couldn't get within one-hundred feet of her without them obstructing his path. His frustration was getting the better of him. He needed to explain himself. Things weren't what the appeared, or they were more complicated than they appeared.

"Clarke!" he called out again, gaining the attention of bystanders in the surgical wing. He knew she heard him.

Two weeks ago, everything had been different. He was so madly in love with the girl of his dreams; he would do anything for her, and nothing to hurt her. But his past had come back to haunt him.

He swore he thought that Raven was gone; he hadn't heard from his old girlfriend for nearly two years. She'd been on her third tour in Iraq when she suddenly went missing. He tried to get in contact with her, but to no avail. It was right about that time that he met Clarke and started seeing the light he didn't know existed.

This blonde, strong-willed, and magnanimous girl had him enamored at hello. She was shy at first, but eventually warmed to him. He could tell that there were still secrets she was unwilling to share, but he'd always thought that there would be plenty of time to figure it out.

She used to brighten up at his entrance, their days together consisting of fleeting glances and light jokes. But now she wouldn't even look in his direction.

It wasn't his fault that Raven came back stateside to find him in hopes of rekindling their old romance. Raven had been through hell and back out there, and he didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. It was his attempts at sensitivity that created this web of lies he was trapped in.

She was purposely avoiding him, taking off in the opposite way as he approached her. But today Finn was insistent—he had to talk to her. So he rushed around the nurses' counter, cutting her off before she could run.

He ran this moment over and over again in his head, planning out exactly what he would say and how he would say it. Yet now, his mind was a mess. All he could say was, "We need to talk,"

She pressed her lips together into a thin line, "I can't, my schedule's packed,"

It was a pathetic excuse. They both knew that. He moved in front of her when she tried to leave.

"Give me five minutes," he pleaded.

Clarke looked up and did a fast sweep of their surroundings. They were making a scene and attracting attention.

"Five minutes, that's all I need."

She looked at him, knowing that she was going to regret even stopping to speak to him. He'd hurt her, he didn't deserve to do it again. "I'm really busy, Finn. I can't right now,"

"Then how about after work?"

He could tell she was considering his offer, so he added, "I'll bring coffee,"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. "I have an evaluation in—" Before she could finish that stream of thought, an arm managed to wrap itself around her shoulders.

"Hey," this stranger greeted nonchalantly, as if this intimate gesture was something he did all the time with her. "Finn, right?" he put his right hand out.

Finn looked at the two of them, visibly puzzled. He looked up at this man with dark hair and a dark complexion. The leather coat and dark jeans were even more confusing. "Yeah," he confirmed, shaking hands, "Who are you?"

Bellamy didn't dignify that question with an answer, instead turning toward the blonde under his arm. "When do you get off tonight? I was thinking you could come over and check out my new place,"

Clarke could have been observed to be in some state of shock. Like a fish out of water, she was unfamiliar with his touch. Her eyes were wide, her mouth frozen.

He had a feeling she'd end up like this, so he did the talking. He smoothly and surreptitiously reached into her jacket pocket and took of her phone, pointedly handing it over to her so that Finn could see. "You left it in my car this morning."

Clarke looked up at him, her mouth slightly open. Her eyebrows were knitted together, her gaze accusing him of ulterior motives she knew were already there.

But as fond of Bellamy as she wasn't, she couldn't help but notice Finn's discomfort.

Without having to think about it, she leaned into the other man's frame. "Thanks," she managed to get out, "I was looking for it."

Her acting was horrible by anyone's standards. But Finn was so distracted that he didn't even notice. The man might be perceptive, but now he was just about blinded by a slow-burning rage.

"Of course," Bellamy answered her before turning to the other man, "It was nice meeting you, Finn. But if you could just excuse us for a moment, I need to talk to Clarke alone,"

Finn directed his eyes towards Clarke for her to contest, but it didn't come. Bellamy didn't bother waiting for a response before he gave his signature smirk and led Clark outside, leaving a very stunned Finn in the dust.

By the time they reached the hospital's main entrance, Clarke physically removed Bellamy's hands from her body. "What the hell was that?" She didn't appreciate the added smugness on his face.

"Hold on, Princess," he put his hands up, "Don't get your feathers all riled up."

She crossed her arms, shifting away from him. "Explain yourself."

He leaned forward, "I just did you a favor and took annoying Prince Charming off your back. You should be thanking me."

She resisted the urge to form a fist and strike him right then and there. She didn't like being ambushed; she didn't like being flustered even more.

"All right," he surrendered, "Fair enough."

She waited, tapping her foot expectantly.

He cleared his throat. Some part of him knew he'd regret this.

"I have a proposition for you."

**End Chapter 5**

**A/N: **And so it begins! Please review if you'd like me to continue.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I am still revising this chapter for grammar, so please excuse any mistakes. I was too excited to wait to post I posted this chapter. I will hopefully publish the final revised version tomorrow.

**Chapter 6**

The words were coming out of his mouth, but they weren't translating in her mind. The whole thing sounded preposterous.

Clarke just thought he was kidding. "Very funny, Blake." She shook her head, "I have to get back to work," she said before swiveling around on her heel to walk inside again.

His hand caught her arm before she could though, pulling her to face him. It was a new look that she hadn't scene on his face before, a look of sincerity. He couldn't told her he wasn't joking aloud, but he didn't need to. His eyes had this intensity, this attraction; they did all the talking He was serious.

She just stared at him blankly, processing his proposition.

"You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?"

He didn't even hesitate, "Yes," as if it were the simplest answer in the world.

Her mouth opened, inhaling sharply. She narrowed her eyes, taking a closer look at him. He might be serious, but that didn't make him sane. "You're crazy," she let out, wrenching her forearm out of his grip.

She didn't get to make one step before he caught her arm again.

"It's a mutually beneficial agreement," he reasoned, "I need someone to pose as my girlfriend, and you need someone to drive your pretty boy ex out of your life."

While she certainly didn't enjoy the thought of playing house to Bellamy Blake, she couldn't deny that the idea of some underhanded revenge didn't take her fancy.

She decided to entertain his idea for a bit, "And what exactly do you get?"

He ran his other hand over the bottom half of his face, "I need to prove to her that I've changed, that I'm stable."

She laughed, "Did you ever think that if you need to lie in order to prove that to her, then maybe it's not something you should be trying to prove?" She watched the frown on his mouth grow deeper. "I'm not about to trick some poor girl for your sake. I don't know what you've done in the past to put her off, and I'm not going to be responsible for whatever you might do in the future,"

She tried to free her arm a second time, but he wouldn't let go.

"I need your help," his voice sounded different, broken down. "I need you,"

"Then ask some other girl. The answer is no, Bellamy," she didn't look away or back up as he leaned in closer.

He shifted his eyes away a bit, "It has to be you."

"Excuse me?"

"You're a doctor. I need my new girlfriend to be a doctor,"

She scoffed, "We're in front of a hospital, I'm sure you can find another doctor,"

He cleared his throat, "You fit the profile."

"I fit the profile?" she asked incredulously, "What did you do, run a background check on me?"

He didn't falter.

"Oh my god, you did," she whispered harshly, "You ran a background check on me?"

He released her arm, stepping back a bit. "Don't get so offended. It's not like I found anything that you didn't want known,"

She could feel her skin getting hot.

"Wealthy parents, a successful mom, and a nice breezy childhood. Although I couldn't lift the restrictions on a processing you had when you were seventeen. Something about minor records," he smiled a bit, "Want to tell me what happened in North Carolina all those years ago?"

The violation of privacy was off-putting. "Don't for a second think that you know me."

This time she was truly done with the conversation. She stepped back and turned away, half-way through the door before he finally said it.

"I have a son."

She stopped in her tracks, waiting.

Bellamy knew he'd have to tell her eventually, but he was never one to share. He was in the business of digging up everyone else's dark skeletons—he just never wanted to drag out his own.

"His mother won't let me see him unless I show her I can take on the responsibility."

She had walked back now. It was like she was peeling back the layers of haughtiness and confidence, finding raw vulnerability that was painful to show.

He swallowed hard. He was pleading with her now.

"His name is Connor."

And then all the pieces start to fill in the cracks. Why he was back, why he was always at the hospital.

"Does Octavia know?"

The dark-haired girl always raved to Clarke about her big brother. She described him as tough, brazen, and a bit rough around the edges. Yet she would also tell her about how he fought for them to stay together through the system. Foster care was one of the most heartbreaking businesses, Bellamy was never ready to let his sister out of his care.

But she never mentioned anything about her nephew or about Bellamy's estranged ex.

"She knows about the situation," he affirmed, "But she doesn't know I'm asking you to get involved."

He stopped, "I know you don't know me, and what you do know I'm sure isn't the best. I haven't done anything to deserve your help, but I wouldn't be asking unless I was out of other options."

He was looking at her with an expression she realized Connor looked at her with only a few days ago.

It had been a tumultuous past couple of days.

Earlier she had believed her life was in a state close to perfection, and now she was about to transform everything at the drop of a hat.

"I'll do it."

**-p-**

"Let me get this straight," Jasper sputtered, "You two are dating?"

"It's a charade, Jasper," Clarke clarified as she rifled through her pantries. She was starving. After her conversation with Bellamy, she had to rush back to work and only just came home. "I'm not really dating him,"

"And you're doing it to make Finn jealous?"

"She's doing it to help my brother out," Octavia interrupted, jabbing Jasper with the arm she held a beer in, "Which I can say I really appreciate."

Octavia wasn't saying it, but she was evidently pleased with this development. Emily had turned into the Wicked Witch of the West in recent years, forbidding Octavia from visiting her nephew at all. And Finn had just broken her best friend's heart.

If this arrangement between Bellamy and Clarke could save Connor and cut Finn out of the picture, then all was well.

"But don't you think Finn will realize that something isn't right? You just broke up this week," Jasper pushed Octavia back, swiping the bottle from her hand and taking a swig himself.

"Finn can do as he pleases," Clarke commented, "He's not really my main concern at the moment,"

"So Bellamy is your first priority then?" Jasper extrapolated, an eyebrow raised.

"The happiness and wellbeing of an eight-year old boy is my first concern," she corrected.

"That boy has more Bellamy in him than I thought was humanly possible," Octavia added.

"But what if—"

"I'm done talking about Bellamy for today," Clarke said, putting her hand up, "I'd like one evening to myself before I become officially tasked as playing his girlfriend,"

"Speaking of a nice evening," Octavia had mischief written all over her face, "I was thinking the three of us could have a nice night out on the town,"

"No way," Jasper breathed, shaking his head adamantly, "The last time you brought us to a club I barely escaped with my both hands,"

"Come on, find your sense of adventure," Octavia sneered playfully, "It's been forever since we let loose together. You both had significant others tying you down,"

"Hey, hold on, I still have a significant other," Jasper pointed out.

"All right, then call Monty and he can come with us. That way Clarke and I can have two wingmen to scout for some fun,"

"Whoa, Octavia," Clarke interrupted, "I'm with Jasper on this one, I don't think we should go clubbing tonight. I still haven't talked to Bellamy about when we're supposed to meet tomorrow to go over everything,"

"Trust me, my big brother will be fine with us letting loose. He may be many different things, but he's not a hypocrite,"

"I don't know," Clarke debated.

"Think of it as your last night as a single woman for the next three months Bellamy has you for,"

"Monty says he's down," Jasper looked up from his phone, showing the last text off to his two companions.

"So, what's it going to be?" Octavia waited expectantly. "

To hell with it, "Who's helping me pick out what to wear?"

Octavia jumped up, squealed, and grabbed Jasper and Clarke and pulled them into one giant embrace.

It was around twelve when they finally arrived at the bar Octavia had picked out. The were all dressed for the occasion, with Octavia in tight black pants and a simple white, skin-bearing tank top, and Clarke in a short striped dress. The venue was rougher than their usual doctor crowd.

This place was teeming with grimy motorcycle gangsters and gamblers. But they only added to the air of excitement, or that was what Octavia insisted as she led them into the establishment.

"I'll get us all some drinks," Octavia offered, running off and eager to put some alcohol in their blood.

"See anyone you like, Clarke?" Monty asked, his hand wrapped around Jasper's waist. The two boys were inseparable. "Octavia told me in the car ride that it's imperative we find you a man tonight,"

Clarke let out a sigh, "I'm not sure that I'm really looking for that tonight, I'm pretty happy just letting lose for a while,"

"Ahh," Monty understood, "I believe that she is the one who can help you with that," he tilted his chin up and signaled at Octavia who entered with a tray of shots.

"One for you," for Jasper, "One for you," for Monty, "and the rest is for us,"

At the amount that Octavia had purchased for the two girls, they would be passed out in the grimy back bathroom in around an hour.

"Cheers," Octavia led the toast, downing the drink in one go.

Clarke followed, gagging a bit at the bitterness and the burn of the liquid sliding down her throat.

That round was followed by another, and another, and another. At some point Clarke lost count of how many she had. But the servings kept coming.

There was dancing on tabletops, some pool, and some good old fashioned singing. Octavia was used to these sorts of places, she told her new friends that she used to frequent them as a rebellious teenager.

But Clarke was so out of place that she stuck out like a sore thumb.

She wasn't one to let go, and some people were picking up on that fact.

"Hey," a man introduced himself to her, "You seem to be enjoying yourself,"

Had she been sober, she would have just walked away. Her movements slowed, she glanced over at Octavia who now straddled the side of the bar and was sweet-talking the barista. Monty and Jasper were dancing in a corner, alone in their own world.

"I am," she sarcastically answered, slurring her words.

"If you wanted," he leaned in closer than she was comfortable with, "I could make you feel even better,"

"Trust me, I don't," she shot him down, not even looking in his direction. She was almost ready to head home and pass out. Seeing how unsteady her vision was now, she was sure she'd wake up with a pounding headache.

The man couldn't take a hint, scooting closer to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "I take it you don't come here often,"

"I suggest you take your hand off me," Clarke rolled her shoulder away from him.

"You work at Mount Weather Memorial, don't you?" he paused, looking closer at her, "I knew you looked familiar,"

She was feeling more and more uneasy with each passing moment. This guy was seriously giving her the wrong vibe. She tried to ignore his question. She wished she didn't take that last shot, maybe then she would've been able to stand up more quickly to leave.

"Whoa, where you going? I asked you a question," he pushed her back down so she was still sitting.

"Murphy," a firm voice came from above. The owner sounded familiar, "Back off."

The man next to her immediately stood up, "Mind your own business, Blake. I'm just thanking the girl who pulled your hand from my throat earlier this week," he snarled.

"I'm not starting this with you, man. I'm just telling you to step away."

Bellamy had been just about ready to call it a day, but he couldn't sleep. All those thoughts about what he was going to do with Connor, how he was going to make it work. The kid was losing his mom. Everything was running through his mind and making sleep a near impossible line to reach.

So he decided to go out for a drink.

It was only by chance that he stumbled into the same place his little sister and new pseudo-girlfriend were in. He should have known better than to stick around, but he could never shake his role as big brother. Besides, Octavia was wasted and Clarke looked worse for wear.

He would have left things alone, until he saw Murphy approach Clarke.

"What if I don't want to step away?" Murphy was having fun seeing his old friend so worked up.

Bellamy bit the inside of his cheek, "You know what'll happen," he was just about ready to sock Murphy in the face, when Clarke abruptly stood up.

She nearly lost her balance, but Bellamy moved quickly to stabilize her. She placed her hand on his chest. "Hey," she looked at him, "Don't do this."

He didn't like being ordered around. But her gentle but firm hand was somehow enough to stop him from jumping the idiot in front of them. He realized he was breathing heavily.

"This guy's a jerk. But I know you're not the kind of man to stoop to his level," she was carefully sounding the words out, aware of the effect alcohol on still took on her system.

Murphy smirked up at Bellamy, "Seems like she doesn't really know who you really are."

He wanted nothing more than slamming Murphy's face into the wall. But Clarke's words were starting to make a whole lot more sense. He was ready to walk away, until Murphy just had to open his mouth again.

"Well look at that, Bellamy. This blonde bitch has you whipped—"

It happened before he could stop it. His fist locked square into Murphy's jaw. There was a crack, and he wasn't sure if it came from his hand or Murphy's face.

The atmosphere in the bar suddenly came to a halt. All eyes were drawn to the fight. It was like the whole room had sobered up. Murphy had crumbled to the ground, wailing aloud and holding his head in his arms. Clarke instinctively bent down to help him.

"Hey!" Bellamy hollered at everyone who was staring, "No one saw anything, that clear?"

He didn't need word of this incident spreading to Emily or her family.

No one spoke against him.

Bellamy Blake was enough trouble when he was just a snot-nosed kid with a bad attitude. Now he was all grown up, with a badge and a uniform.

"Come on," he leaned over, taking Clarke by the arm and pulling her up, "We're leaving," She yanked out of his grasp.

"Did you have to hit him?" she demanded, "I'm pretty sure you broke his jaw!"

"This is on you, Princess," he didn't soften the edge in his voice, "You weren't careful and I had to deal with your mess," he tilted his chin down at Murphy.

"He needs medical attention." she insisted.

He shook his head, "He can drive himself to the emergency room."

Clarke was about to contest, but Jasper stopped her. "It's okay, Clarke," he bent down next to Murphy, "I've got this."

"Octavia!" Bellamy shouted, "Come on, I'm driving you both home."

Octavia listened without talking back, sliding off the bar counter and walking over. She knew better than to aggravate her brother when he was in a mood like this. She dropped the car keys into his open palm.

He took off first, heading to the car parked outside on the street.

Octavia rushed to her light haired friend, "We should go," she said, "We both had a little more than we should have, and Bellamy's the only one sober enough to drive us back."

Clarke didn't move.

"Please, Clarke," she tried, looking around, "I don't really think we're welcome here anymore. And Jasper has this, we should leave."

Eventually the other girl complied, balancing herself on a nearby table and rising her feet. "Alright," she agreed, "Let's head home."

The drive back was dead silent.

Octavia dove into the backseat, falling asleep so quickly that Clarke had to look back to make sure that she was still alive. That only left room for her in the passenger seat. Bellamy's jaw was tight, his throat dry as he drove to Clarke's place first.

She didn't question him when he somehow found her apartment complex without needing an address or directions. Maybe that was all part of the background check. He pulled up in front of her building and stopped the car.

He would readily admit that he had a fast temper, but Murphy was asking for it.

He swore he thought Clarke was going to say something, tell him that she wanted out of their agreement. He thought she was going to tell him that he was too irresponsible or hotheaded to take care of a child.

But none of that came through her lips.

Instead, she unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up. Her hand pushed the car door open, and with one foot out of the vehicle, she looked back and said it.

"I'll see you tomorrow,"

Tonight she saw him for everything that he was. He was a total ass with a chip on his shoulder, acting as he saw fit however he wanted. He was dangerous.

But, she also saw him for everything that Octavia used to describe him as. He had been ready to walk away, but he shot up to defend her when Murphy had insulted her. While he may have overreacted, there was a real person underneath all that self-righteousness.

He stared at her for a bit before she closed the door after her.

She walked into the building, out of his sight.

He let out a breath.

Maybe she was right earlier, when she told him that he didn't know her just because of all the shallow details he'd managed to find out about her.

If he was starting to learn anything from all this, it was that Clarke Griffin was full of surprises.

**End Chapter 6**

A/N: Thank you for all of your support so far for this story. All the feedback I got for the last chapter kept me writing this one. Please review if you'd like me to continue!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Octavia, get up," Bellamy looked down over his slumbering sister. She only groaned in protest, hoping that if she closed her eyes long enough that he would go away. "You're late,"

She laid limp like a rag doll, unmoving. Her head was throbbing—maybe she should have listened to Jasper when he told her to slow down last night. But Bellamy took no pity for her, and he ripped her blanket from her curled up form, she immediately tried to kick him for it but he avoided her heel out of habit.

"You're such a pain," she squinted up at him, "Why did I let you stay in my apartment again?"

"Hurry up," Bellamy ignored her, "Clarke's waiting for you,"

She crinkled her nose and raised an eyebrow, "You're talking to Clarke on your own now?"

His patience was running shorter, "No," he tossed her phone into her lap, "Your phone has been ringing off the hook all morning,"

She looked down at the screen. Three missed calls.

"I'll see you at the hospital around one, I'm seeing Emily and Connor after lunch."

"What?" she called out after him, hearing her front door unlock, "Where are you going?"

"I'll see you at one!" he shouted, the door slamming after him.

Octavia winced at the sound of that. She only hoped that Clarke was feeling equally as horrible as she was at this point.

**-p-**

"Where's Octavia?" Jasper looked around the locker room again.

"Too loud," Clarke moaned, cradling the side of her head.

"Wow," he scanned her appearance, "You look—"

"I don't want to hear it," she stopped him, her hand in the air. She woke up nauseous and ready to pass out. She was always the responsible girl. Throughout high school, college, and the rest of her adult life, she had always taken care of herself.

Her mother used to say that a healthy body and healthy mind were one in the same. People were relying on her to help save their lives. She was accountable, at least to some degree, for what happened to them. And here she was, showing up twenty minutes late to work.

"How's that guy from last night?" she changed the topic.

"Oh," Jasper remembered, "His name's John Murphy. He's got some swelling in the jaw and throat, but he's lucky that Bellamy didn't fracture any bones. That punch was really something."

She let out a breath of relief. She barely realized how worried she had been about the situation.

"You okay?" Jasper inquired to his blonde friend.

"Hell no," Octavia came in on that note, with dark rimmed sunglasses covering her eyes, "I regret everything," she proclaimed painfully.

Jasper tried to a stifle a laugh but was cut short by Octavia's glare. Even through tinted and framed glass, he could feel the anger radiating from her petite body.

"Come on," Octavia put Jasper into a headlock, "Let's go get some coffee before the madness starts today,"

Clarke managed to crack a smile. She felt terrible, but at least Octavia could commiserate. She chuckled at her two friends before her eyes trailed elsewhere.

Of course he was here; she didn't know why she was surprised. Yet her breath hitched and her chest tightened. He stood at the other end of the room, watching her closely. Finn was still waiting to explain everything.

Clarke was his world, and he wasn't going to lose her without a fight.

"You guys go ahead," she said, "I need to sort something out first."

The ends of their smiles pulled down as they both craned their neck to follow her gaze. "You sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I'll see you guys later."

All the other doctors eventually started to filter out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. It was unnerving. She wanted to hear him out, she really did. But it was just too painful to relive the moment his infidelity was confirmed.

"Hi," he stepped up first, a tentative smile on his lips. He handed her a cup of coffee, extending it to her like an olive branch.

"Hey," she managed to get out, accepting the coffee. He used to get her coffee in the morning all the time. But what used to be a daily routine now felt so foreign.

"How are you?"

The exchange was incredibly awkward. There was something so strange about speaking to someone distantly like this, especially when that someone had been close to the heart.

"I'm okay," she answered curtly.

"Good," he shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping that they would stop shaking.

He didn't know what to say, and she didn't say anything either.

"Clarke," he broke the silence, "I just want you to know how sorry I am. Things weren't supposed to end up like this,"

But they did.

"I never meant to hurt you, and if I would change everything if I could do it all over again,"

But he couldn't.

"Everything isn't what you think it is, or not exactly."

He was rambling now.

So she decided to take the reigns. "What's her name?"

He looked at her, his eyes wide, his lips frozen. "Raven," it felt so wrong saying her name in front of Clarke. Raven was supposed to be his past, and he always meant for Clarke to be his future. Things were so screwed up now.

"Raven," she repeated, the name like acid in her mouth. "How long?"

He didn't quite know how to answer that. "She came back two months ago,"

She crinkled her nose, "She came back? What do you mean, did you know her before?"

He sighed, running a hand over his face, "She's my ex,"

She folded her arms, "So you just decided to hook up with your ex when we were together?"

"No," he shook his head. He tried to step closer to her but she backed away from him. "No, it's not like that, I swear."

Clarke waited for him to continue.

"Raven and I technically never really split up."

Her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped. She just looked at him like that. "So you were still together with her when we met?"

"We were together but I hadn't spoken to her in months. When I met you, I just—"

"You just, what? You decided to never tell me about your girlfriend?" Her voice was hoarse, her tone sarcastic, but her words were pointed enough to stab him, "You made me the other woman."

"No," he struggled to speak, "Yes," he stopped himself, stepping closer to Clarke and grabbing onto her shoulders. She looked into the eyes she trusted so blindly, unable to move away from his touch. "Clarke, the moment I met you, there was nobody else. You could never be the other woman, not to me. Raven was stationed out thousands of miles away, and she just came back without any notice. I thought she was gone forever."

She tried to look away, turning her attention to the laces on her shoes. But he gently pulled her chin up.

"Please believe me when I say that I would never do anything to hurt you."

Finn was so desperate. He couldn't lose Clarke. Having her this close again made him weak in the knees, and nothing felt so right.

"I promise that if you give me a chance, I can explain everything. We can work through this."

She didn't know what to say.

She wanted to trust him, but she couldn't bring herself to open herself up to him again. Being vulnerable to someone who had betrayed her would be difficult, if not near impossible. She never let people in, but she did let Finn in. She told him nearly everything. She made a leap of faith on Finn, and he had ruined it.

Her lips moved to form words, when she heard the sound of knocking against wood.

Bellamy was not impressed. His frame stood in the doorway. Tall, dark, and dressed in a black suit, he was hard not to notice.

"Am I interrupting?"

Finn closed his eyes, his other fist clenched tight. This guy had the worst timing. "Yeah, you are."

Clarke shook her head, as if trying to regain an awareness of her surroundings. She took a step back, out of Finn's arms. "No," she looked at the other man, "You're not." She tucked her bangs behind her ears, walking toward Bellamy.

He took her by surprise as he protectively slung an arm across her shoulders, pulling her close. She gasped a little, hoping that no one noticed. "You okay?" he asked her seriously, "Did he do anything to you?"

She shook her head, "No, we were just talking," she glanced back at Finn, who looked so frustrated that he just might hit something.

Bellamy took her out into the hallway, his arm never slipping from her shoulders. When she gave him a weird look, he leaned in close as they walked, "Relax, we have to at least try to make it seem like we don't hate each other,"

He couldn't stop his smile as she rolled her eyes.

He led her over to one of the less populated areas of the hospital, never removing his arm. "So, you want to tell me what that whole conversation was about?"

She leaned her back against the wall, closing her eyes for a brief second. "It's not important, we were just talking."

Bellamy propped himself up on the wall on his side, "I get it. It's not my business. But if it interferes with our deal, then I need to know. I don't want him causing any problems down the line,"

"He won't," Clarke assured, although she wasn't so sure. "Why are you here, anyways?" she looked down at his right hand that had a few fresh cut on the knuckles, "Come to nurse your own wounds after putting Murphy in the emergency room for a night?"

She could always keep up for him. He smiled, "No, I think I can handle a couple scrapes. I'm here to see you for lunch,"

"Lunch?"

"We need to discuss the details of our arrangement. Clear up anything and get everything out in the open,"

"What, that background test didn't clear up everything for you?"

He was coming up with a response, when she reached over and tugged at the tie around his neck. She played with the fabric, straightening his tie. He stared at her.

"I didn't know you were so hands-on," he smiled smugly.

"Oh, shut up. Your tie was crooked."

"Admit it, Clarke. You're growing to like me more by the minute."

"In your dreams, Blake."

**-p-**

Finn had followed them out into the hall. He watched them from around the corner, eyeing the young pair.

Clarke was never one to branch out or socialize with strangers. She was the type to find the few close to her and hold onto them. It was completely out of character for her to meet this brooding new guy who seemed a little too comfortable around her.

He watched them exchange eyes and smiles.

He seemed like an obnoxious kid who never grew up.

Finn wanted to march over to them and demand what was going on, but then spotted someone else who could provide an explanation. His hand shot out and pulled over the poor boy who knew no better.

"Whoa," Jasper let out as he was pulled aside, "Finn, what are you doing?"

"Concentrate," he turned the other boy's head in Clarke's direction, "Now tell me everything you know about the man next to Clarke."

Jasper did a double take, then turning around to face Finn. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Finn ran a hand through his in exasperation, "Come on, Jasper. We've known each other for years, you know I'm not a bad guy. I'm just looking out for her."

Jasper shook his head, "Get in line, man. Clarke doesn't need anyone looking after her."

There were about four other people in his head that he thought could better protect her.

"Please, Jasper,"

Jasper loved the Octavia and Clarke, but sometimes the female atmosphere was too much for him to handle. They were all like siblings, and sometimes it made sense that Jasper would seek out a fellow male companion. As much as he didn't want to admit it to himself now, Finn had been his friend too. A small part of him couldn't help but feel sorry for Finn.

"Okay," Jasper surrendered, "His name is Bellamy Blake."

"Blake?" Finn repeated, "As in Octavia's brother?"

But no matter what friendship he managed to forge with Finn, he took care of Clarke first. He knew where his true loyalties laid.

"Yeah, and that's not all," the other boy breathed, "I'm sorry, Finn. He's Clarke's new boyfriend."

**End Chapter 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

They decided on the diner across the street from Mount Weather Memorial for lunch.

He took off his suit jacket, sliding into the booth first. She followed his lead, sitting on the other side of the table. She had passed this joint a hundred times on her way to work, but she never thought to go in.

"So, what's with the suit?" Clarke broke the silence first, eyeing his attire.

"I have to wear it to work. It's protocol for all higher-level detectives," he explained. Bellamy looked over at her one more time, taking in her new outfit. She opted out of the scrubs for her street clothes—a plain white blouse with dark pants. She was so prim, so proper.

He was forced to dress the way he did because he was on the clock. But she wore this because she was accustomed to it.

"Alright," he put his hand up, "Have at it, ask me whatever you want."

She looked up from her menu, "What?"

"I already did a background check on you. It's only fair if you get to take a shot at me,"

She raised her eyebrows, "You," she emphasize, "You're trying to even the playing field?"

"It's only fair," he smirked. The waitress then came over to their table, pen and pad ready to take down their order. Clarke had decided on a simple sandwich, but never got the chance to say so. "We'll take two number fours," Bellamy beat her to it.

"Sure thing, I'll be right back with your food," the waitress, who looked to be in her late-teens, collected their menus. Clarke was about to stick it to Bellamy for ordering for her, when the waitress again spoke up. "It's nice seeing you back, Bellamy. I just wanted to say thanks for everything, my brother really appreciates it."

Bellamy nodded silently, and the waitress left.

He looked over at the blonde across from him. If she didn't have questions before, she sure had them now.

Clarke had him pegged as the classic tormented troublemaker who lacked any parental figure. But there was something more to him, and she was finding that out fast.

"Okay, so first off, what was that about?" she gestured to the waitress who was now tending to different customers.

"I used to come in here when I was a teenager. Mallory's been working here since she was kid. Her brother's gotten into some trouble every now and then, and since I'm home now I'm helping him get straightened out again."

"Hometown hero?" she teased.

He scoffed. "Not even close."

"Reformed bad boy?" she continued.

"Not necessarily reformed, but still bad," he leaned back in his seat, a wicked grin on his mouth.

She might have been as straight laced as they came, but she sure knew how to put him in his place. He was always guessing with her, and it was a nice to play with someone who knew the game as well as he did.

"Go on," he invited, sitting forward again, "Keep them coming. This is your free pass to get everything out."

She accepted the invitation. She knew a few bits and pieces of his life; after all, Octavia was her best friend. But there were obviously some parts that were up in the air.

"Jail?" she inquired.

"I went to Juvie for a few months when I was sixteen for taking a swipe at an officer. But never to jail," he paused before remembering something, "What about you? What really happened in North Carolina, honestly?"

She put her hand out, "No way, Blake. It's my turn to ask questions."

"Still holding out, I see."

She rolled her eyes and returned to the conversation at hand, "What about New York. Why were you living out there?"

"It's where I've been since leaving this place," he looked around them, "I had bigger aspirations; I wanted to escape,"

She probed his thoughts, letting him continue, "But now,"

"But now things are different. I would've never guessed that Octavia would move back home after med school. And now there's Connor too."

"He's a good kid," Clarke added, then joking, "A little moody, but he's smart."

"That attitude is all he's got from me," Bellamy shook his head, "I haven't even had a real conversation with him his entire life. I can't get him to look at me for more than two seconds,"

"He's an eight-year-old boy," she stated as he shifted his gaze to look at her, "He'll come around."

The same waitress came back, this time wordlessly placing two plates on the table. She wouldn't have admitted aloud that the food he'd ordered looked pretty good. But then again, she didn't have to, because it was written all over her face. She glared a few seconds to fight off the growing smugness over his face.

"And what's the story with Emily?" she managed to ask a few minutes later.

He swallowed, "We ended up in different places after a while. And when she had Connor, she stepped up and grew up—I didn't," he answered simply.

She watched him for a few moments. He clearly wanted to paint this image of himself, one of a brash, reckless, and selfish guy who didn't give a damn about anyone else. She couldn't figure out why he wanted to make himself out to be someone he wasn't.

"But you are now," she assured him quietly.

He took a breath, clearing his throat. "What's the story with pretty boy?" He shifted the attention away again. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it was getting the better of him at this particular instant.

This was the second time he'd asked about Finn today.

She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes playfully again. "None of your business,"

"I think I deserve some explanation as to why you wanted in on this arrangement," he tried, "We both know you're doing it for more than just helping out Connor. What's prince charming done to get him so far in the dog house that you're willing to pretend to date me?"

"You could probably ask anyone at the hospital. I'm pretty sure there are some rumors going around," she put her utensil down, grating her teeth once.

"I've heard some things," he admitted, "But I like to go to the source."

She sighed, he wouldn't quit until she said it. "Finn had always been the best boyfriend, but it turns out he wasn't the most faithful one."

A cheat was the worst kind of liar there was, at least by his definition.

Clarke was a smart girl, she always was. But she never saw anything coming.

Bellamy knew better than anyone, especially in his line of work, that nothing was black and white. There were shades of gray that were lighter, and some that were darker than others. If anything though, he could tell that Clarke was a whole lot lighter than a lot of people he'd met.

He raised his beer bottle up a bit, toasting her. "To sticking it to him better than anything else."

She couldn't help but smile, raising her own glass, "To getting Connor a safe home with someone who will look after him."

They could both drink to that.

**-p-**

"You sure you want to do this?" Bellamy asked again, "We can wait."

She could feel her heart beating a touch faster, her hands a bit less steady. But she stood her ground. "Yeah, I'm sure. Sooner is better than later,"

They stood out in the hall again, this time outside of Emily's room. Connor's grandparents had dropped him off around a half hour ago. It was time to debut their fake relationship to the two people who it mattered to most.

"Okay," he sensed her nerves, "Hey, don't worry. Just stick to the plan and everything will be fine."

"Okay," she looked up at him. She changed back into her scrubs, her hair tied up again.

He nodded once and then opened the door for her to step through first.

The mother and son didn't notice them come in at first. Emily had been placed on a higher doses of medicine today. Her pain was worsening, and she needed something stronger to take the edge off.

It felt so unnatural to enter a patient's room without picking up a chart and analyzing his or her condition. Clarke fought the urge to reach for a clipboard.

Emily looked up first, only seeing Clarke. "Oh, sorry," she struggled to sit up, "Doctor, I didn't know you were coming to evaluate me. I thought our appointment was at three."

"No," Clarke excused herself, "It's not your mistake. I'm not here to give you an inspection or to check your vitals."

Emily was confused for a second, until she saw Bellamy standing behind the pretty blonde doctor. It all made sense to her, but things didn't click quite the same way for Connor.

"Doctor Griffin!" Connor was more than enthusiastic. His mother was on the verge of slumber, and he had been waiting the past few days to encounter the nice doctor who took the time to show him around the hospital.

"Hey, buddy," Clarke greeted him with a smile as she crouched down to keep at his eye level, "It's nice to finally see you again."

"Emily," Bellamy said, walking over. At his appearance, Connor visibly shied away and quieted down. He hid behind his mother's bed. "I'm sorry I didn't give you more warning, but she was free to meet you this afternoon. This is Clarke,"

"No," Emily coughed, "It's all right. I was waiting so long for you to introduce her that I was beginning to think she didn't exist," she looked at him sideways, but smiled at the other girl. "So this is her."

"It's nice to meet you, Miss Sterling," Clarke approached the other woman, returning the smile.

"It's alright, you're not on call as my doctor now. Just Emily is fine,"

"Emily, it's nice to meet you."

"When Bellamy told me you were a doctor, I didn't know that he meant a doctor at this hospital," she patted Connor's hair down on his head in hopes to comfort him. He clung to her side now.

"Yes, I've been an intern here at Mount Weather for the past two years. I'm training as a general surgeon," Clarke elaborated a bit nervously. Bellamy stood by her side, who had placed his hand gently on the small of her back. It was strange, how the gesture itself felt comforting.

"Oh, a surgeon," she glanced at her son, "Connor seems to know you already. How is that?"

"She showed me around the hospital," Connor whispered into Emily's sleeve. He lifted his eyes to the nice doctor. "How do you know Mr. Blake?" he asked her.

"Oh, well," Clarke was growing more flustered. She was a horrible liar, which she was only now realizing would be a huge liability for them.

Bellamy felt her hesitation, an jumped in for her, "Hey, man," he greeted first, "Doctor Griffin is my friend,"

Connor looked at the man he recognized as his father for a moment. His mother barely spoke of Bellamy, and when she did, it wasn't fondly. He was a stranger in his life. He didn't think he liked Bellamy, but at that dislike was beginning to conflict with his fondness for Clarke.

"You mean your girlfriend?" Connor clarified.

Clarke and Emily looked something akin to horrified by the boy's connection. Emily was ready to scold her son, when Bellamy let out a laugh.

"Yeah," he grinned at Connor, "She's my girlfriend," he glanced at Clarke one more time, "Not bad, huh?"

"Okay," Emily intervened, "Behave yourself," she meant to chastise the eight-year-old in the room, but it really applied to both males here. "Bell," she looked up, the old nickname slipping out of habit, "What's the update with the new house?"

"It's ready to move into. I'm hauling in on Saturday,"

"Saturday?" That was soon, "And I'm assuming that you've been staying with Clarke since you've come back?"

Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a look, silently agreeing on letting Bellamy tackle this one. "I've been staying with Octavia in her apartment. Clarke wasn't keen on letting me live with her since we've only been together for a few months,"

Emily's eyebrows pulled low over her eyes. Clarke was a doctor, a blonde, and an overall nice person—she wasn't Bellamy's type. That much was clear. But then there was this whole thing with not living together because it was too soon was even more out of place.

Bellamy never did anything that a girl didn't invite him to do, but he certainly didn't wait around if they didn't.

Now he was telling her that he was alright with his allegedly serious new girlfriend not allowing him to stay in her apartment.

Bellamy read Emily's reaction like an open book and started the damaged control, "Well, she's been—"

"We made a deal," Clarke let out without thinking. Bellamy tensed up at her outburst, but let her continue, "We agreed he wouldn't stay with me for now so I could get a little alone time,"

"Alone time?"

"Before I moved in with him."

She internally winced at her own words. This was bad.

"You're moving into the new house with Bellamy?" Emily looked at the lighter-haired girl.

"Yes."Clarke regretted everything in that moment, but it just seemed like the best thing to say at the time. At least it seemed to work, because Emily looked impressed. These two felt like the real deal. Maybe Bellamy was actually settling down.

Bellamy had his jaw hung low, his mouth wide open. He didn't know what he thought Clarke would say, but it wasn't that.

"So, Saturday?" Emily asked again.

"Yeah," Bellamy recovered quickly, shaking his head and puttting his arm around Clarke's waist, "We're going to grab Clarke's things from her place and get settled afterwards."

Connor was watching the adults' exchange for a while now. He was intrigued by it all. There were new people being introduced into a life he had only known with his mother. For the first time in months, he was beginning to be excited about something in the future.

"If it's okay with you, Emily," Bellamy treaded carefully, "We'd really like it Connor could come with us that day, just to see what the place looks like."

Emily didn't like the idea of Bellamy with anyone. It was only natural for one to be uncomfortable that their ex had someone new. But she supposed that if it had to be anyone, Clarke was a pretty good option. "That sounds fine to me," she then focused on the dark-haired child beside her, who no longer attached himself to her side, "How about you, Connor? Would you like to spend the day with Mr. Blake and Doctor Griffin?"

His entire life, all he could remember was his mother being sad without his father. But now she seemed to encourage their interactions. All of it was disconcerting in his mind, but Connor couldn't help but be curious about Doctor Griffin. So he looked up at the good-natured surgeon in front of him, "I guess I could do that."

At that, a nurse entered the room. It was time for Emily's routine check up.

"We should go," Bellamy said, trying not to push their luck by staying any longer.

"Sure," Emily agreed, "Clarke, you're probably very busy. I'm sure you both need to get back to work."

"No, this was a pleasure," Clarke answered stiffly, "It was nice to meet you."

"I'll see you around," Emily waved goodbye, and Connor looked as the other two adults prepared to leave.

Clarke was ready to step out of the room and regroup with Bellamy. This whole living situation was not part of the plan, and they needed to figure something out. She smiled at Connor, and turned to exit.

She kept walking until they went out the hospital entrance and into the parking lot. Bellamy followed her out without a word. The evening wind was pretty strong today, but it was still warm. The summer weather was especially good to them.

Clarke wasn't a natural liar, and she could barely breathe. He didn't utter anything, just watching her carefully. He leaned back on a nearby car, folding his arms.

She knew from the moment she met him that Bellamy would mean trouble. But she never thought that she would be the one to dig them deeper into their own grave. He waited until she stopped and finally looked at him to say something.

"I guess we're roommates now."

**End Chapter 8**

**A/N: **Please leave a review if you liked this chapter or want me to continue!


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The both played it off like it was no big deal. Neither of them was ready to admit the magnitude of this disaster-in-the-making.

It was all part of the act, a piece of the territory that came with the deal. Besides, it was all working. Emily was skeptical and hard to convince, but she was starting to believe their charade.

It was only the aftermath of Clarke's words that they were dealing with. She had lived alone her entire adult life. She never had any roommates or boyfriends that stayed with her. It was strange how fate worked out, that the first man she'd live with would be a man she had hardly been able to tolerate.

"You're not serious," Octavia breathed, her eyes like round circles. "You asked her to move in with you?"

"No," Bellamy denied, "I didn't."

"So what, she asked to move in with you?"

"More or less," he zipped up the duffle bag on the bed.

"Hey," Octavia stepped in his way, and she shoved him back a bit with her hand, "Seriously though, what's going on?"

"Your friend's a horrible liar and the wrong thing came out her mouth and the wrong time. Emily and Connor think we're living together, so now we're living together," he explained curtly. He was getting ready to pick Clarke up before heading over to the new house.

"You're kidding," Octavia was still skeptical. There was just no way this was happening.

He shot her a look before ignoring her and moving to get the rest of his things together.

"Oh my god, please tell me you're kidding. You're not actually moving in with Clarke?"

"Don't worry, O. I'm not going to steal your friend away from you, I promise," he joked, towering over his younger sister. He then walked through the front door.

"Bellamy, you're going to live with a woman. A girl who I care about," she followed him down the stairs outside, "Clarke is doing you a favor and helping you out. Don't mess with her."

Bellamy dropped the bag into the trunk of his car, then turning around and sighing. "I'm not going to mess with her."

"I'm serious, Bellamy. She's not like the other girls you can use and manipulate."

"I have to go, Octavia," he shut the trunk door down.

She exhaled loudly. She knew Clarke; she knew that the other girl would never let herself be tricked by any guy, especially not after Finn. But she also knew her brother and his nature. She didn't want this whole arrangement to end badly.

"Say hi to Connor for me," Octavia gave a bit of a smile.

"I will, O. Stop worrying."

He put his hand on top of her head and messed up her hair. She slapped his hand away defiantly.

As he got into his car and drove his way to Clarke's apartment, he couldn't help but think about what Octavia had said. The truth was that Octavia didn't need to remind him of anything.

He already knew that Clarke wasn't like anyone else he'd ever met. She was special, even he could see that.

**-p-**

"That's it?" he looked at her, eyeing the single piece of luggage in her hand.

"Yeah," she answered as he took the bag from her and placed it into the trunk. "Why?" She watched him. It was different, seeing Bellamy dressed casually compared to the suit he wore to work. He had a pair of sunglasses sitting on his nose, his hair slightly messy.

"Suit yourself. You're just going to have to make trips back to get more of your things," he shrugged.

"I think I'll be fine," she responded, a half smile across her lips.

She helped herself into the passenger side of his car, ready to pull the door shut when he caught it with his hand. He just stood there, not realizing that he was staring.

"What?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

"Nothing," he shook his head, coughing into his hand as he shut her door and made his way over to the driver's side.

"Nice ride," her eyes scanned the interior of the vehicle. She'd been in here when he drove her and Octavia back from the bar. It was one of those old sports cars, a classic. But it didn't look child-friendly; it didn't even have seatbelts in the backseat.

"Thanks," he put the keys into the ignition, leaning back to her side with his arm so he could look out the rear of the car to back out of her building's driveway. And almost like he could read her mind and the expression on her face, he added, "I have another car at the new house, a safer one for the kid."

He was leaning so close she could smell his aftershave. She held her breath as he returned to his side, turning the wheel, and driving onto the main road. His eyes were on the road, but he was hyper aware of the girl next to him.

He was a bit of a car enthusiast. Growing up, he'd never been able to afford any of the toys or knick-knacks he really wanted. Any spare change in his pocket ended up towards Octavia's college and med school fund. It was only as an adult that he started collecting certain cars.

He would buy them as pieces of junk and fix them up himself. He was never a smart student in school, and figuring out the mechanics was difficult. But through trial and error he managed to make them run like new.

"I've got a bike too," it was already waiting in the garage of the new house too, "Ever been on the back of a motorcycle?" He asked with a grin.

He already knew the answer, but it was nice to see her glare at him from the side of his eye.

"Ha ha," she let out facetiously, "Those bikes are death traps. I prefer being alive, so no."

"Come on, Princess. Live a little."

That made her crack a smile. That's exactly what Octavia used to say when they first met. The brunette was always trying to push Clarke out of her comfort zone, to get her out in the world. Now she saw where the other girl got it from.

She found herself smiling for a bit longer, and when he glanced at her, he was smiling too.

This was nice.

She had known the man for all of one week, and now she was moving into his house as his pseudo-girlfriend. All of this was a crazy, stressful, and whirlwind of an experience. But right now, it was nice too.

Clarke broke eye contact first, then turning to her window. He had rolled the glass down before arriving at her apartment, and the breeze paired well with the sunshine.

"Thank you," he said after a bit, "By the way."

She turned towards him again.

He absent-mindedly brushed the bridge of his nose with the pad of his thumb before placing it back on the wheel. "I appreciate everything you're doing here."

She pressed her lips together, thinking that way she could prevent the ends of her lips from curving up. "Don't thank me yet," she glanced up at his profile, "I might need a favor down the line. Your connections with the law might make you useful."

That actually made him laugh.

This was definitely nice.

They drove for a couple more miles before they made their way deeper into the suburbs. The white picket fences and big backyards were a foreign sight for him. He was a city boy through and through.

"Here we are," Bellamy pulled into the driveway. The house was spacious, big like the others in the neighborhood. There was a moving truck already parked on the street, and a few men in brown uniforms had congregated in the front porch. Movers.

He groaned out loud. He was seriously regretting his decision to let Octavia order the furniture for the house. He could already feel a headache coming, and another ache in his wallet.

"I'll deal with the movers," he told Clarke as he shifted the gear into park. He opened his door, "Emily's parents are dropping Connor off at ten—"

"I'll handle it," she assured him.

He tilted his head down in acknowledgement before exiting the car and then approaching the three men in front of his house. She couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but it was somewhat entertaining to watch Bellamy figure out just what to do.

"Doctor Griffin," came the small voice.

She looked behind her, finding light blue eyes looking up at her. She was going to greet him back, but was stopped by the stern presence of a woman who looked to be in her later forties.

"Connor," the woman chastised, "I told you not to run off!" She was catching her breath, barely realizing Clarke standing there. "Oh, you must be the new girlfriend."

"Yes," she answered a bit too quickly, she extended her hand but the older woman cut her off.

"Sorry that we're early, but we had a personal emergency."

"No, it's completely all right," Clarke glanced down at Connor again with a smile, "We're very excited to spend the day with Connor."

"About that," Emily's mother coughed, "Something's come up, and we need to leave him for the night. We can get him in the morning."

Clarke had a blank look on her face for a second. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"We're leaving Connor with you two until tomorrow."

Clarke quickly turned in the direction she last saw Bellamy, who was now helping haul different boxes out of the bed of the large truck, completely oblivious to the conversation that was happening across the yard. And then she turned back, her gaze connecting with Connor who was looking at her expectantly.

"You know, I really should ask Bellamy. I can go get him, if you could just wait a moment," she laughed nervously.

"It's fine," the other woman casually termed, as if she was expecting this response from Clarke. "Maybe Bellamy's schedule is just too hectic to keep his son overnight,"

Clarke swore her mouth was wide open. This lady was a piece of work. It was one thing to fight in front of a child, but it was a whole new level of low to manipulate the situation in front of a kid so that it seemed like his dad didn't have time for him.

"You know what? It's fine. We could take him all weekend, if you need," Clarke said impulsively and smiled smugly, satisfied by the surprise on her face. The blonde took the same hand she had earlier extended to the other woman and offered it to Connor. "What do you say, why don't we go check out your new house?"

Clarke didn't even wait for Emily's mother to leave before she led the boy away. Bellamy wasn't the conventional choice for a guardian, but he was a hell of a lot better than this woman.

Clarke held onto the boy's hand, which now clung to hers. She could sense his apprehension and nerves. This must have been scary for him. He was basically staying with strangers. Bellamy saw them walking on the lawn. He didn't walk over, but he did wave once.

"Connor," Clarke pointed, waving back so that the kid could see.

Connor didn't move and simply turned back to her with a shrug. He really did have an attitude. But she laughed it off.

She took him into the house. They went around the ground floor first, touring through the kitchen and living rooms. Connor was silent, but she could tell he was interested. He was a bit like she was as a child, quiet, but always watching.

"I think this will be your room," she gave him a little push as she stood in the doorway. She could hear the rumbling downstairs of coordinated voices and the slam of things being set on the wooden floors.

Connor walked the perimeter of the room, stopping at the window. He was just barely tall enough to see through the glass, but his eyes were fixated on something. So she walked over and followed his gaze.

He was looking at Bellamy, directing two other movers as they carried one large box together.

Clarke's eyebrows came together, and she let out a breath.

"Hey, Connor," she started softly, waiting for him to look at her, "Want to know a secret?"

He nodded.

"I'm a little bit scared too."

**-p-**

It took around another hour for everything Octavia ordered to be moved off the truck and into the new house. By the time he reentered the house, he found Clarke and Connor sitting together in the middle of the living room floor.

The kid was leaning over onto Clarke, trying to get a better vantage point to view the book in her hands.

"Hey," he got their attention, as two pairs of eyes synchronized and glanced up at him, "What are you two up to?"

Clarke smiled, "Connor was just showing me his new books." Then she whispered something into the kid's ear before standing up off the ground and walking over to Bellamy.

"He's smart," Bellamy commented proudly, still watching Connor.

"Yeah, he is," she confirmed.

"Hey," she tried getting his attention quietly now. Bellamy turned, his line of vision landing on her. "I have something I need to tell you."

She liked telling Emily's bitter mother off at the time, but the consequences of doing so were just now dawning on her. Connor might be eight, but he wasn't blind. This act between them was about to become into a twenty-four-hour show.

At this rate, her mouth would never stop getting her in trouble.

**End Chapter 9**

A/N: I wrote this one quickly, just because I was so excited to see how many of you enjoyed the last chapter. Thank you for all the support. Like always, please review if you'd like me to continue.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The trio lounged out on the front lawn under the shade of a large billowy tree. Connor had practically attached himself to Clarke's hip while simultaneously refusing to even look in Bellamy's direction.

It was quiet. Not the awkward, tense kind, but the peaceful and comfortable one.

Bellamy looked at the two of them, observing them from a small distance. The kid had brought three different books with him, and Clarke shared his enthusiasm. She was the perfect candidate to bring the boy out of his shell.

"You're reading, right?" Connor looked up at the blonde woman suspiciously.

"Yeah, of course," she laughed, "I'm just waiting for you to turn the page,"

Connor, content with her answer, nodded in acknowledgement and obediently turned the page and returned his eyes to the printed words in his hands.

Clarke looked up and smiled at Bellamy, who nodded at her too.

"Hey, Connor," she leaned over, "My eyes are getting kind of tired. Would you be okay giving your dad a shot at sharing your book?"

The dark-haired boy stared at her, and then bobbed his head from her to Bellamy. He lifted his shoulders in compliance, not saying a word. His eyes were filled with disappointment as she propped herself up and switched places with Bellamy.

The older man shot Clarke a thankful expression, to which she nodded. The circumstances they were placed under were different, so it made sense that it would take some extra effort to make everything work.

Connor looked up, timidly placing the book half-way between his and Bellamy's lap. Bellamy mimicked his son's actions, concentrating on what was written in the bound papers. From what he could make out, the story followed the journey of a girl in search of her sister. Pretty complex stuff for an eight-year old; it was definitely nothing like what Bellamy would have read as a child.

The light buzzing sound vibrated through the air.

Clarke quickly retrieved her phone from the blanket they had laid out on the grass. She took one look at the screen and glanced over at them. "Sorry," she apologized, "I'll be right back, I have to take this."

He watched as she stood up and made her way up the front porch and into the house. The suspicion must have been obvious on his face, because by the time he tried to refocus on the book, Connor was staring straight at him.

This whole bonding over a book really wasn't working.

Oh, to hell with it.

Bellamy closed the cover.

"Hey kid, you like cars?"

**-p-**

"Hello?" Clarke accepted the call, "Finn?"

"_Hey," _he sounded breathless, _"Where are you?"_

"Finn," she sighed, stepping into the empty hallway of the house, "You need to stop calling. I can't talk right now—"

"_You're never available to talk," _he interrupted her solemnly, _"Clarke, please, I'm just asking for one evening. No interruptions, no one else, just the two of us. Please," _he entreated.

She closed her eyes, thinking of what to say. "I'm not trying to avoid you. I really am busy," she tried honestly.

There was a moment of silence on the other end, but then he spoke up. _"We need to talk. Jasper told me about this Bellamy guy. This isn't you, Clarke. I don't understand what you're doing anymore." _

She didn't answer him, so he exhaled loudly and made another attempt to convince her.

"_We've been together for two years, We can't throw that away. One meal, just dinner I swear."_

Her eyelids were still tightly shut, and the tips of her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course Finn had found out about the whole dating façade she'd created with Bellamy. His reaction was just part of the plan.

So why did it all feel so wrong?

"_Hello?" _he asked, wondering if she was still listening, _"Clarke, you there?" _

"Yeah," she affirmed, "I'm still here."

The truth was that a part of her still desperately wanted things to work out with Finn. She could almost dream of a scenario where this was all some supreme misunderstanding, that Finn was still him, and she was still Clarke. But things had changed, whether she liked it or not.

"Okay," she agreed at last, "One dinner."

She could imagine the smile of relief on his face.

"Finn," she began again, "This doesn't change anything, though."

"_I know," _he paused, _"I'm just glad that we can sit down and talk. I miss you." _

The blood was pounding against inside of her skull, and she was starting to feel dizzy. "I need to go."

"_Alright," _Finn conceded, _"I'll see you on Monday."_

She clicked her phone, hanging up quickly before any more words could be exchanged between them. Her chest felt heavy, like there was something sitting on it.

It was always a battle, thinking about Finn. She hoped that it would get easier at some point.

Clarke caught her breath and collected herself. She rummaged through one of the boxes in the kitchen and managed to find a few glass cups. After filling them with water, she headed back out to the front yard.

But when she stepped outside, neither Bellamy nor Connor was in sight. She didn't a double take, scanning the premises one more time. They weren't where she left them, so she tried looking elsewhere. That's when she noticed that the garage door was wide open now.

She followed the sound of two individual voices; she walked quietly as not to intrude.

"And that's the engine," Bellamy pointed, hoisting the boy up to the side of the motorcycle so he could see, "Looks different than the one in the car, right?"

Connor nodded, and Clarke couldn't help but smile as she noticed Connor's wide eyes focusing on everything Bellamy was showing him.

It seemed that father and son weren't complete opposites—there was some common ground between them.

"I still need to replace it but haven't had the time. You want to help me out later and get it running smooth?" the man asked the boy. Connor couldn't mask his enthusiasm this time, as he turned his head to get a better look at the bike. "If you want, I'll bring you along for the first test ride."

That was her queue to step in.

She cleared her throat, "What's this?" she gestured to the way they were crowded around the motorcycle. She made eye contact with the kid, "Sorry Connor, but it seems your dad's mistaken. I don't think that you're quite ready to ride out on that bike just yet."

Bellamy stood up a bit straighter, "We'll talk about it," he assured Connor with raised eyebrows.

Clarke was going to retort, but Bellamy went up to her and stopped her. He said it low, so Connor couldn't hear. "Is everything okay?" He eyed her phone.

"Yeah," she shook her head, forcing a smile, "Everything's fine."

He could tell that she wasn't telling the truth. But since Connor was here with them, he decided to let it slide for now.

Bellamy turned around and kneeled so that he was at the same eye-level at his son.

"So, kid," he started, "What's it going to be?"

Connor cocked his head to the side, not quite understanding.

"You want to read with Clarke, or you want to build a bike with me?"

**-p-**

Bellamy gave him an easy choice, and he chose just like he expected.

They spend the rest of the afternoon in the garage working on the carburetor. Bellamy didn't think of himself as an expert on many things in this world, but he sure knew how to talk cars. This was at least something he could share with Connor.

Clarke tagged along, sitting next to Connor and listening to Bellamy's informative lecture on metal parts together.

Everything in the house still needed to be unpacked and staged. Her own mother would have demanded that everything be put in place immediately, but Clarke let herself get lost in the moment instead.

By the time they finished up in the garage, the sun was starting to set. They practically had to rip Connor away from the garage and promise that they could do this all again soon. Connor went straight upstairs to wash off all the car grease he managed to get everywhere, leaving the two adults downstairs.

She noticed the huge, blank, inky stain on the front of her shirt and went to the kitchen sink to rinse it out. She tried scrubbing it, but to no avail.

"Forget it, Clarke. That stain's not coming out."

She glared up at him, ignoring his words and continuing to scrub. He leaned his back against the granite counter, watching her fruitless efforts.

He chuckled lightly, only earning a more intense glare.

"Just go change into another shirt," he suggested before realizing why she hadn't done so earlier. His smile widened as she continued to shoot daggers in his direction. He was enjoying this too much.

"Here," he grabbed a spare shirt from his bag and threw it at her, "Take it."

She should have packed more of her things, but she wasn't going to let him know that. Clarke had been in such a hazy panic this morning at the prospect of living with a stranger that she had forgotten to pack an extra shirt for the weekend.

She looked at the his balled up T-shirt in her hands and threw it back into his chest, "I'll live without it."

He stepped closer to her, maybe too close. "It's up to you," he feigned a shrug, "But as soon as Connor sees you didn't have to change, he won't either."

At that, she rolled her eyes and shoved past him, grabbing the shirt back from him and heading to the first floor bathroom to change. She quickly pulled the fabric over head and tugged the hem over her jeans. She tried to stare at her reflection for too long before leaving.

When she came out, Connor was already back.

"That's a good look on you," Bellamy tried to rub it in, admiring her new attire.

Connor noticed that Clarke's shirt was not her own, and deduced that it really belonged to his father. But he didn't seem to mind.

Emily was always confident that she could lead her life without a man—she always told Connor that the only guy she needed was him. Clarke seemed to be just as strong as his mother. Yet there was something different but nice about seeing Bellamy and Clarke together.

"I don't want to hear it," Clarke stopped him short before bending down and sitting next to the boy. "I don't know about you boys, but I'm starving."

Bellamy got out his phone and typed in a number he'd memorized as a kid. "I'll take care of it," he put the device up to his ear, ordering enough take-out to feed the three of them.

The food arrived around a half hour later. Bellamy handed out the individual foil-wrapped burgers, giving one to Connor first.

As they were all eating, Clarke became rather amused by their synchronized movements.

The ways they tackled their food, unwrapped their burgers, and picked out the onions was exactly the same. Neither of them was aware of just how similar they were.

They spent the rest of the night lying on the ground with a few scattered throw pillows beside them in the empty living room. Bellamy scavenged for a lamp and plugged it into one of the far walls. The lighting was dim for now, but it was enough for Connor to get out at his book.

This time they had the boy read aloud to all of them.

Connor was so enthralled by his literature that he didn't realize the look on his dad's face. A combination of admiration and respect, he was gazing at Clarke as she listened to his son's narration.

He couldn't have done this without her.

Soon enough, Connor fell asleep to the sound of his own voice, collapsing in the between the two adults on the ground. They were all lying on their backs now, staring up at the ceiling.

"Hold on, Clarke," Bellamy whispered in hushed tone, his eyes narrowed, "Are you telling me that Octavia and Atom are still hooking up?"

She winced at the realization that she had unknowingly spilled her friend's secret. "You did not just hear that," she denied, "Do not repeat that ever again," she shushed.

He groaned, running his hand over his face, "That idiot has been pining over her since high school."

"Trust me, Octavia has a handle on the situation," she assured him light heartedly with a smile.

He let out a laugh too.

"Hey, Bellamy?"

"Yeah,"

"Thank you," she stopped, "Thanks for running that background check on me."

The truth was that she honestly enjoyed today. She didn't want to admit it, but she was thankful that Bellamy Blake had chosen her. If he hadn't, she would have never gotten the chance to spend time with Connor or experience all things she had that day.

It took him a while to comprehend what she was saying. By the time he could form a coherent thought, she beat him to it.

"Goodnight, Bellamy."

He sighed, turning on his back again, traces of a smile still present across his features.

"Goodnight, Clarke."

**End Chapter 10**

A/N: Hope you all like this new installment! Please review if you would like me to continue.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

There was something about waking up in the morning and not wanting to get up. The quiet, the calm, and the seemingly endless warmth that was found in slumber could be ripped away in a single instant.

Clarke woke up in a state of bliss. Sunshine was pouring in through the windows on her right, and she could feel a small body snuggled close to her side. Connor was still fast asleep, his face buried into her stomach. With her other hand, she rubbed her eyes.

She lifted her neck a bit, assessing her surroundings. Bellamy had disappeared.

Carefully moving as to disrupt the slumbering boy as little as she could, Clarke placed a pillow under his head and pulled a thin blanket over his sleeping form. He shifted a bit, but he didn't wake up.

Her back was aching. Sleeping on the floor did her posture no favors. Raising her arms in the air, she stretched tall and headed over to the kitchen. Everything was the same as they had left it the evening earlier. Only this time, one of the boxes seemed like it had been unpacked.

Curious, she decided to take a look inside. She apprehensively peered over the edge of the box. There was a case sitting inside, maybe about the length of her arm. Without really thinking about it, she clicked it open. She gasped silently, instinctively pressing her hand to her lips and stumbling back a bit.

It was in that instant she heard the door behind her jingle. And she reacted without thinking.

When Bellamy came back from his morning run, he thought he'd return before either Clarke or Connor even woke up. He certainly wasn't expecting to find the blonde completely pale and wide-eyed, wielding one of his handguns and pointing it right at his face.

He put both his hands in the air, wary of the barrel aimed in his direction.

"Clarke," he paused, "It's just me."

She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes and eventually lower the gun. "Are you insane?" she demanded in a hushed tone, remembering the Connor in the room right over, "What the hell are you doing with a case of guns in your house? There's a kid sleeping in this house!"

He took a few steps toward her and quickly disarmed her, "There is a kid sleeping here, so stay calm."

She was still standing incredibly straight, her muscles tense. He put the firearm back where she had found it and ushered her outside onto the deck in the backyard. He closed the door behind them.

"Explain yourself," Clarke let out another deep breath, though she was anything but calm.

"I keep a few guns with me at home, it's out of habit. I'm a cop, Clarke. I'm armed on the clock."

"You can't just have them lying around for your son to find and play with. The last time I checked, that's not safe," she crossed her arms.

"Connor's smart enough to know what's not a toy. I've been handling these things my entire life, nothing bad is going to happen as long as I'm around," he tried to assure her. He had his arms folded over his chest too, but he was trying to get her to listen.

He was accustomed to having guns in the house. Some people would argue that they made everyone less safe, but he felt the opposite. These weren't weapons to him; they were assurances. He and Octavia grew up in a rough part of the city and he'd always done what he had to keep her safe.

Having Connor around was only more reason to have them.

"But you," he started again, "I'm not so sure about,"

She looked at him quizzically.

"Have you even held a gun before?" he asked, mischief written over his smile.

Clarke rolled her eyes, "I'm being serious, Bellamy."

"Me too," he agreed honestly, "You should learn how to handle one."

"Very funny,"

"Hey," he cocked his head, "Anytime you're ready and we can head to the shooting range."

She was about to put him in his place when they heard shuffling inside. The kid was awake. The two adults pulled themselves together and headed back in. Connor yawned widely as he met them in the kitchen.

"Morning, kid," Bellamy put his hand on the boy's head, "You in the mood for breakfast?"

He nodded silently, still too hazy from his recent slumber.

Bellamy smiled, "Alright. Why don't I take us to breakfast before we drop you off at your grandparents' place?"

Bellamy headed upstairs first to get showered and dressed after his workout, while Clarke stayed to help Connor get changed into new clothes.

She noticed that Connor was a lot more talkative when Bellamy wasn't around. The boy couldn't stop listing all of the machine parts that Bellamy had shown him yesterday; he was near obsessed.

"You really think he'll let me onto the bike?"

Clarke was crouched down, helping him straighten out his shirt and smooth his hair down. "I think maybe one day," she offered, "But I think you should probably learn to get the hang of a regular bicycle first."

He looked pensive before responding, "Will you teach me?"

She smiled, "Of course."

He grinned back, but then lowered his eyes, "When will we do that?" he paused, "Am I coming back here to stay with you?"

She had to admit, the kid was perceptive. He knew this was trial run; his future was uncertain and he had no control over it.

"Of course, I would love if you could come again." she put her hand on his shoulder, "You'll always be welcome in this house."

It took everything in her not to wince at her own words. She had told herself that she was doing all of this for Connor—that he was better off staying with Bellamy than his maternal grandparents. But she never really thought of the repercussions this whole arrangement would have on the boy.

She could feel herself growing more and more attached to him. But what would happen once the whole thing was over? She tried not to think too much about it; she'd just cross that bridge when it came.

Connor was looking at her now, his eyes full of hope. Those big light blue orbs were childlike, more fitting of his age than his other mannerisms. Without a word, he moved and hugged her. It came as such a surprise that she nearly lost her balance.

He squeezed his arms around her, not letting go for a few seconds. "I like staying here," he confessed, "I like it a lot."

She hesitantly put her hand on his back, hugging him back. "I promise I'm not going anywhere."

It was then that Bellamy came downstairs. He'd showered quickly. He practically stopped in his tracks as he walked in on the scene before him, making eye contact with Clarke first.

"Hey, Bellamy," she cleared her throat and Connor quickly pulled away from her.

The older man swallowed, his eyebrows knitted together. But he managed to recover soon enough. He had his keys in his hands, "Who's ready for breakfast?"

They took the car Bellamy had recently bought to the same diner that Emily used to work in before she got sick. It was familiar territory for Connor, and he was more than comfortable sliding into his usual table and ordering his favorite dish.

The boy ordered a tall stack of chocolate-chip pancakes he would never be able to finish, but that didn't stop him from picking off both Bellamy and Clarke's plates. It was a pleasant meal, and all of them were rather disappointed for it to end.

Bellamy drove Connor back to Emily's parents' house. This time Bellamy walked the boy back to the front porch and dealt with Emily's mother while Clarke stayed in the car. She waved to the kid one last time as he shot her one fleeting last glance.

He didn't say anything to her as he drove back to the house.

Octavia and Jasper were there waiting for them, ready to help get settled into the new home. Clarke realized by now that playing Bellamy's girlfriend was going to need a bit more commitment than a single suitcase. She was going to have to bring her A-Game, as well as the rest of her belongings. Her dear companions were wonderful enough to help her pack.

"How's Connor?" Octavia asked, walking with them through the door. Jasper struggled behind them, carrying a few more boxes.

"He's good," Bellamy responded shortly, glancing at Clarke, "It seems like he likes it here with us."

"Good," Octavia smiled wide, "You should keep him more often so he can spend time with his favorite aunt."

"His only aunt," Jasper muttered under his breath, swallowing pointedly after meeting Octavia's glare.

"Come on, guys," Clarke attempted to keep the peace, "We have to finish moving everything in tonight," she looked up a Bellamy, "We should get it all in place before Connor visits again."

Octavia clapped her hands together, "Who's ready to marvel at all the furniture I've picked out." With that, she linked arms with her older sibling and dragged him inside. Bellamy couldn't stop himself from shooting one last look at Clarke, who met his gaze at the same moment.

Jasper caught the shared look between them.

He might have been mistaken, but that wasn't a simple or friendly gaze. There was something deeper. He knew better than anyone the dedication and platonic love that someone could have for someone else—but whatever was going on already between Bellamy and Clarke was more than just friendship.

"What?" Clarke waved her hand in front of his glazed over eyes, "Earth to Jasper."

He snapped back, "Nothing," he lied, clearing his throat. "But this is a nice place," he recovered with a compliment.

"Don't get too attached," Clarke warned playfully, "This is only for three months."

Jasper had always pegged Clarke as a girl who was brutally honest with herself. But right now, it felt like she trying to convince herself more than him. "Hey," he shrugged, "Enjoy it while it lasts."

"What's up with you?" she squinted her eyes slightly, "You okay?"

He smiled, "Yeah, I'm fine," he paused, "Just be careful."

She stopped, examining her friend more closely. "I always am," she promised. Then she took a page out of Octavia's playbook, shoving past Jasper and yanking him inside, "Let the work begin."

While the Blake siblings remained downstairs to ready the first floor, she and Jasper headed up to the bedrooms to get everything settled.

"Wow," was all they could say once they had ripped open the boxes and revealed what was inside, "Octavia has outdone herself."

There were dressers, beds, curtains, bookshelves, and practically anything else in a home styling magazine.

"What is she?" Jasper questioned with genuine concern, "When did she even have time for all of this?"

Clarke was standing on her toes, trying to fix the place of one of the curtain rods by the windows before Jasper jumped to help her out.

Below them, Bellamy and Octavia were arguing about the same thing. "Was all this really necessary, O?"

Octavia laid out the silverware into one of the kitchen drawers, "You need utensils, Bell. How else are you going to eat?"

"I'd figure it out," he hand his hands on his hips.

"If Emily does grant you custody, Connor's going to live here too. Think of all this as something for your son, and not you."

He sighed loudly in exasperation. He couldn't win against her.

But then Octavia spotted something familiar. "Word of advice," she gestured to the metal case, "You'd better hide that from Clarke. She's not a fan of guns."

"Too late," he grunted as he picked up another box and set it down on the counter. "She found them this morning when the kid was sleeping."

Octavia raised an eyebrow, "And she didn't make you throw them out?"

"She nearly shot me in the face."

**-p-**

The four of them labored through the rest of the day. Somehow they switched places and Jasper was paired with Bellamy downstairs while the girls were putting up the final touches on the second floor.

"You're kidding me," Clarke looked around, "You only ordered one bed?"

They stood in the master, both of them staring at the single bed that sat in the middle of the room. It was big enough for four people to sleep in comfortably, but not big enough for Clarke to consider sleeping in it with Bellamy.

"That's how the set came," Octavia tried to explain, somewhat guilty, "But I guess I didn't really think about it."

"Octavia, you're not helping the situation."

Meanwhile, Jasper was trying to get acclimated to Bellamy's presence.

Bellamy came off as the sort of confident, good-looking, and pompous guy that rubbed Jasper the wrong way his entire life. He'd spent his early years trying to forget about guys like this, and now he found himself working closely with one.

"Hey," Bellamy had his head behind one of the shelves in the living room, "Hand me another nail?" he instructed.

Jasper complied, "Here," he dropped it in the other man's palm.

"Thanks."

Bellamy could feel the tension. He'd heard about Jasper from Octavia frequently throughout the years. Funny, goofy, and easy-going. He had nothing against the guy, but it appeared as if the same wasn't true the other way around.

"Okay," Bellamy proclaimed, "That should be good," he shifted himself away on his side so that he could take a good look at his work.

"Yeah," Jasper agreed half-heartedly, "It looks great." Sarcasm was dripping with every word.

Bellamy stood up, matching the other boy in height, tilting his chin upwards. "You got a problem with me?"

Jasper wasn't the same kid he used to be. His new friends had taught him how to stand up for himself and those he cared for. "That depends on you," Jasper countered, standing just as tall, "I'm just checking to make sure that my friends are okay."

Bellamy narrowed his gaze. Octavia was his sister; Jasper was concerned for Clarke.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you, but we've had some trouble with guys making great impressions and turning out to be jerks."

Finn.

Jasper had encouraged Clarke to accept Finn's courtship proposal while Octavia remained skeptical. He didn't think of himself as protective, but when someone he cared about was hurt, it was only instinctual.

"I'm doing this for my son. Clarke knows that. Everything is out in the open," Bellamy took a step closer, "So I suggest you back down," he threatened quietly.

"Hey!" Octavia hollered from the top of the stairs, "We need some help up here!"

The two boys were still squaring off, the intensity of their stares never wearing down.

"Hello?" a touch of impatience in her voice as she called for them again, "Everything all right down there?"

"Yeah," Jasper responded loud enough so Octavia could hear, "We're good down here."

"We'll be up in a minute," Bellamy finished.

**-p-**

They ordered a pizza for dinner and shared a few beers.

As much of a hassle as it was, their hard work had paid off. The entire house had been finished and moved into. Less than a day ago it was an empty, hollow, dusty place; now it was a habitable home that looked like it belonged to a real family.

"Sorry," Jasper sat back at the table after leaving to take a phone call, "Monty has been hounding me about this bed and breakfast upstate. He really wants to get away for a few days."

"Ugh," Octavia groaned as she took another sip from her bottle, "You're so old. Those bed and breakfasts are for boring, middle-aged couples who have nothing else to do with their time."

Jasper reached for a drink, "Better than those late-night booty calls with a guy you don't want to be seen with during the day," he retorted before Octavia kicked him under the table. He winced in pain and fell out of his chair.

"Oops," Octavia feigned innocently.

He looked over at Clarke helplessly.

She laughed, "Octavia, play nice."

"Late night booty calls, huh?" Bellamy looked at his sister skeptically. He'd been so over-protective growing up. She would still avoid talking about her romantic life in front of him if she could. He sat back, "How is Atom these days?"

Atom and Bellamy had been rather good friends in high school. They were getting along perfectly fine—until he caught Octavia in the back of Atom's truck one weekend.

"You told him about Atom?" Octavia's jaw dropped and she turned to the blonde beside her.

"I'm sorry," Clarke apologized, putting her hands over her face, "It slipped out."

"You're all horrible friends," she announced, before continuing proudly, "And for the record, I'm the one calling him, not the other way around."

Bellamy put his hand up, a frown pulling the edges of his mouth. "I don't want to hear it."

Octavia had shown him years ago that he couldn't control her, so he didn't try much these days.

"He has a point, Octavia," Clarke interrupted, "You should find yourself a guy who is actually compatible with you during all hours of the day. I mean, you're so smart and wonderful, you deserve a guy that appreciates that."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "Okay, Mom and Dad," she looked at both her friend and Bellamy. "I think that's enough for tonight." She slapped her hands flat on the table and rose to her feet. "Come on, Jasper. Let's go."

Jasper followed her, taking the keys from her so he could drive them back safely.

Bellamy walked them out.

"Keep her safe," Bellamy told Jasper before they exited through the front door.

Jasper nodded his head, "You too."

Bellamy turned away a bit with a crooked smile on his lips. "Fair enough. I'll see around," he extended his hand.

The other man accepted it. Maybe this guy wasn't as bad as he thought.

When Bellamy walked back into the dining room, Clarke had finished throwing out the pizza box and paper plates they'd used. Her back was facing him, and she was stretching her arms vertically up to the ceiling.

"Long day?" he asked, gaining her attention as she swiveled on her heel to look at him.

"Yeah," she confirmed, "You'd know it too."

He chuckled lightly, "Damn right."

She smiled back before she could even think about it.

They headed upstairs to confront the issue that Clarke had forgotten about. Bellamy walked straight into the master bathroom to prepare for sleep without hesitation, but Clarke stopped as soon as she saw the item that reminded her of the problem at hand.

The sleeping arrangements had yet to be established.

**End Chapter 11 **

A/N: If any of you are interested in more Bellarke, I've posted another AU story called "Long Live the King." I would really appreciate feedback to either of these stories if you would like me to continue either of them.

Thanks again for reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **I know I already posted earlier today, but I couldn't wait to upload this chapter. This is THE chapter. Get ready!

**Chapter 12**

They slept in the same bed that night, but with a lined fortress of pillows between them.

She would have brought the whole predicament up for discussion, but Bellamy just made his way to bed without a single thought beforehand. It didn't seem like a big deal to him. Over the years, he'd spent the night with his fair share of women.

He had to admit that Clarke was objectively quite attractive. She was a bit pretentious, high-strung, and always so serious—but hell she was still nice to look at. He wouldn't have thought twice about hooking up with someone who looked like her, but after only a week into the strangest proposition he could imagine, he found himself thinking a whole lot harder about her.

It took a few moments for him to realize that she might have issues with the situation.

So he assured her, "Relax, Princess. I'm not going to touch you." She let out a breath of relief, chastising herself in her head for being so tense about this. But before she could even say anything in response, he added, "Unless you want me to."

She was a surprise he never anticipated. Unlike the other men and women he'd encountered, she didn't take his attitude. She saw straight through him and let him know she knew. She was a challenge in herself.

Clarke knew how to keep up with him—hell he was having trouble keeping up with her. She was witty, kind, and interesting. She was also great with Connor.

She threw a pillow at his head. "Stop while you're ahead, Blake."

He laughed quietly as she proceeded to neatly place a few pillows vertically as a barrier. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," he joked dryly.

"Shut up."

She had always been somewhat of a prude, not even she would deny that. She wasn't that experienced in that department. She'd always been driven by her career. Some girls lived for boys, and she could respect that. But she concentrated on herself. She had faith that the right partner would just come along one day.

"Goodnight, Clarke," he smirked with his eyes closed.

Bellamy was hot. But at the same time, he was Octavia's brother, Connor's father, and her fake boyfriend. If everything was so complicated right now, she didn't even want to think about what hooking up with him would do.

She shook her head, trying to banish that scenario.

"Goodnight, Bellamy."

They were both exhausted after that long day, and Bellamy passed out. For the second night in a row, he slept beside Clarke.

What he failed to realize was that those two nights were the best sleep he'd had in years.

Clarke on the other hand was having more trouble falling asleep. She could barely keep her eyelids open, yet she couldn't relax her mind to lull her into slumber—there was something she was even more worried about than the man two feet over.

Tomorrow she would meet with Finn once and for all. She'd face him head-on, with nowhere to escape to.

She turned onto her side, looking at Bellamy's sleeping profile.

He was respecting her privacy regarding Finn. While clearly interested in knowing what exactly was going on between them, he never pressed the topic. He told her he only needed to know what happened if it impacted their agreement.

He trusted her.

She had every intention of fulfilling his expectations.

**-p-**

The next day carried on routinely.

Clarke was used to waking up early for her shifts, but Bellamy was surprisingly an even earlier riser than she was. He liked to run every morning before work to get his blood pumping. S

So when she rose out of bed, he was already gone.

She was actually pretty relaxed that she was alone. She showered and silently thanked Octavia for bringing her clothes so she didn't have to borrow anything from Bellamy.

He was unexpectedly tidy. She walked in and went through the closet they now shared. His side was organized well. He didn't have that many clothes, but all of it was coded. She almost laughed out loud as she thought about his reaction if she raided his attire. Glancing down at her watch and being reminded of the time, she quickly picked out an outfit. Another white blouse with some dark slacks.

She always kept things completely professional.

But then she saw something in the corner of her eye. On the island in the middle of the closet, there was a note.

_Try not to be too adventurous while I'm gone. _

She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the smile from forming on her lips. She looked back at the plain top and skirt. Maybe she should mix it up.

She'd like to see Bellamy joke about her sense of adventure now.

Clarke then went downstairs, fixed herself a cup of coffee, and grabbed the keys off the table by the door. She'd left her own car back at her apartment. Bellamy had agreed earlier to let her drive the safe car that Connor was allowed in. He wasn't using it for work anyways.

She got in his car, shifted the gear into drive, and headed down the same road she'd taken for the past two years everyday. She'd adjusted the radio so that it was playing a classical station; her mother used to listen to a similar channel when she drove to work.

She was stopped and waiting at a red light, when someone hit her from behind. The collision wasn't the powerful, but it did push her car a few feet into the intersection. In a short state of panic, her heart began beating against her rib cage.

A few moments later, she reality set back in and she checked to see if everything was all right. She could move all her fingers and toes, a good sign. Then she instinctually unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of her car to see if the other driver was okay.

The surgeon in her was getting the better of her.

But when she went behind to find the other driver, she found an empty car. Her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows furrowed; she took another step to get a closer look.

"It's nice to see you again."

She barely recognized the voice, but she turned around and she made the match.

Murphy stepped closer to her, and she took another backwards.

Something about this guy made her uneasy. She looked around her. This was the least busy intersection for three blocks. She'd taken this shortcut to work because there wasn't as much traffic. But now there was no one here besides the two of them.

"It's okay," the man attempted to convince her, "I'm sorry about your car. You aren't hurt, are you?"

She took a defensive step back again. "I'm fine," she told him. She rubbed the part of her collarbone where the seatbelt had left a light red mark.

"Are you sure? I could take you to the hospital."

"No, it's really fine. I'm heading there anyways."

But he already knew that.

"I was actually hoping that since we bumped into each other by such great coincidence that we could speak to each other."

She narrowed her eyes again. From the time she'd seen him in the hospital and then at the bar and then now, he was definitely giving off the worst vibes now.

"I'm actually in a rush, so—"

He walked right up to her, "I really think we should talk."

"Okay," she tried to steady her voice and stand tall. She could handle one creep on his own, so she didn't know why her blood was pumping so quickly.

Their cars were just sitting there in the intersection. He followed her gaze, "It'll be fine. Not many cars will pass through here at this time of day."

"Funny how you ended up passing through, then."

He frowned at that comment. "I'm here to talk to you about Connor."

"What do you want with Connor?"

He let out a laugh that spent a prickle down her spine. "He's really supposed to go into my care, you know. Emily is a dear friend of mine, always has been."

"So why was she trying to give him to her parents, and not you?"

He pursed his lips into a thin line. This girl sure knew how to pick all the questions to push all the wrong buttons. "Emily and I had a falling out a few weeks ago when she told me she was calling Bellamy."

That made her wonder just how much history there was between Murphy and Bellamy. Octavia didn't seem all that surprised when Bellamy assaulted the other man at the hospital first and then the club. But then maybe that wasn't just because Bellamy got into trouble often, maybe it was because Murphy had warranted it.

"You see, we have a bit of a past, the three of us. Believe it or not, I cared a lot about Bellamy when we were younger. He was like a brother to me."

Clarke was listening intently, and Murphy continued with his monologue.

"But then he skipped town, and he then he left his son here."

Bellamy never knew his dad, and neither did Murphy. They were both troubled kids who walked the halls with a chip on their shoulders. They bonded over their careless attitudes in high school. They were one in the same.

When Bellamy first started dating Emily, things went downhill. Murphy would have never said it, but he'd been in love with Emily for years. God, did he love her. But she was so happy with Bellamy that he swallowed his pride and watched their relationship in silence.

He never told Bellamy about his feelings for the girl.

"You've seen how violent he can get. He's unstable," he tried to reason with Clarke, "Bellamy doesn't deserve to take care of that kid."

"And you do?" she asked incredulously.

"More so than he does."

"Murphy, look. I'm not sure it's my place to get involved," she told him, "I need to go, I have to be at the hospital in ten minutes." She moved to get in her car, but he caught the door before she could close it.

She felt her hand shaking a bit, but hid it behind her back.

"You're already involved. You are the only reason Emily is considering handing custody to Bellamy."

He looked at her. He didn't mean to scare her, and it seemed like he was just realizing what was happening. He removed his hand from her door, putting his hands up in the air as if to show her that it wasn't his intention.

"Just think about what I said," he offered, "Just think about it."

She let out a breath as he closed her car door. But she could still see him through her open side window.

"Be careful," he warned additionally, as he stepped farther back, "You don't know what's out there. That dress is pretty dangerous, too."

She glanced down at what she was wearing. She regretted changing into the tight, black ensemble.

She quickly jammed her keys into the ignition and readied herself to drive away. The light was red again, but she didn't care. She ran straight through it.

In her rearview mirror, she saw Murphy wave once goodbye.

As she parked the car in the hospital lot, she let out a deep breath. She didn't get out, she just stayed inside while she gathered her wits.

She didn't know what possessed her to get out her phone and call him, but her fingers had a life of their own as she dialed the number. The line rang three times before the other side picked up.

"Missing me already?" she could practically see his smirk. She was still breathing heavily, and he noticed soon enough. "What's going on?"

"Bellamy," she breathed.

"Clarke, are you all right?"

"Yes," she struggled to respond. But her words weren't that convincing.

"Are you at the hospital?" His voice was stern, serious.

She nodded, "Yes."

"Stay there. I'm heading over now."

He didn't even give her a chance to try and stop him before he hung up.

**-p-**

Bellamy was there ten minutes later.

He was dressed in his suit for work again, but his hair was still messy, probably because he'd rushed here before finishing.

His knuckles tapped against the driver's side window. He found her still pretty shaken up. She was desperately trying to keep her composure, but he was a detective, and she was a bad liar.

She opened the door and he took her hand, helping her out of the car. He was going to let go of her, but she quickly grabbed onto his arm.

"What happened?" he tried asking calmly.

She only had one word to answer him with. "Murphy."

She proceeded to continue explaining her run-in with the other man. Bellamy was tight-lipped through it all, trying to maintain his composure. But he didn't interrupt her, he just kept on listening.

By the time she finished, he looked red in the face.

"Okay," he said at last, "You stay here."

He let go of her arm and was ready to head to his own car to find the asshole by himself, when she put her hand on him again to stop him. "No," she managed to get out, "Where are you going?"

He sighed, clenching his jaw, "Where do you think, Clarke?"

"Don't do this," she pleaded, "That's exactly what he wants. If you get into another fight, who knows what Emily will do."

She made sense, but his temper was still getting the better of him.

Nothing made him more angry than threats to people he cared about. Only, he hadn't even fully acknowledged the extent to how much Clarke meant to him until then.

"I didn't tell you this so you could go over and start something with him. I told you because I wanted to make sure that you were aware of everything that's going on."

For whatever reason, it was instinctual to call Bellamy. She wanted him there, even if she couldn't describe why. Yet she told him everything because she wanted him to know.

"I can handle Murphy if he approaches me again," she asserted, "I wasn't expecting it today, but I will in the future. It didn't seem like he wanted to hurt me; he just wanted to talk."

Bellamy shook his head, "You don't know him like I do. Murphy is dangerous."

She looked up at him, "Sounds kind of like someone I know."

He was going to disagree with her, but just ended up kind of smiling. He didn't want to smile, not now. But he couldn't help it.

"Okay," he begrudgingly agreed at last, "I won't go looking for him. But if he finds me I'm not responsible for what happens."

"Well, that's a start," she glanced at her wrist, "I have to go to work."

"Right," he acknowledged, "Me too."

They both kind of let their gazes linger a bit longer.

"I'll see you tonight," he said, closing the door behind her.

"Yeah," she agreed, a half smile on her lips.

"Okay," he agreed too, "By the way," he paused, "I like the dress."

The comment from Murphy made her skin crawl, but it was genuine compliment from him.

"Thanks."

And with that, he backed away and headed back to his own car as she made her way into the main entrance.

As she glanced back at him, she thought about telling him about the dinner she was going to have with Finn. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

She would deal with the situation on her own. Bellamy had enough on his plate.

**-p-**

"Hey," Finn ran a hand through his hair as he held the door open for her. They both finished their shifts early and took their separate cars to the venue.

"Thanks," she added, as she entered the restaurant first. She should have known that he would be planning something special. This place was where Finn took her on their first date, a romantic French brasserie. The candlelit ambiance and smooth music made her heart swoon two years ago, but now it almost made her cringe.

"Your table," their server presented the table, helping Clarke into her chair.

"You look nice," Finn added, eyeing her unusual attire. It was daring by her standards. She looked like a whole new woman.

She gave a small, awkward smile. She scanned the menu in her hands, trying not to look up. But she could feel his eyes staring into her forehead.

"Clarke," he said, "What are you thinking right now?"

He used to be able to read her every thought, predict her every move. He used to know her so well, but she had transformed into a new enigma he had no idea how to crack.

She sighed, "I don't know," she lifted her line of vision to match his. "It's not that easy to put into words."

"Okay," he accepted, "Then would it be okay if I just tried talking first?"

"Go ahead, Finn."

He scooted closer, leaning into the table. "I made a mistake in not telling you about Raven. I should have been up front about her from the start, and I shouldn't have gone back to seeing her when she came back."

She was waiting for him to make any more sense.

"This wasn't what I had planned for us. I thought that I was doing you a justice by keeping this secret from you, I didn't want you to worry. I know that was wrong of me and I wish I could take it back. At one point in my life, Raven meant the world to me. But now things are different—Clarke, you're everything to me."

She lowered her eyes and put her menu back onto the white tablecloth.

"I told Raven the whole truth this past weekend. She wasn't happy about me lying to her too, but she understands the situation and she's moved out of my place," he reached for her hand, "And I'm not sure how I'm going to win you back, but I will. I'll show you I'm for real, that I've always been in love with you."

He paused, "People always say that perfection is impossible, but they're wrong. You are perfect in every single way, Clarke. You've been perfect to me from the day I saw you in the hospital."

It took everything in her to make maintain eye contact and not look away.

"I can't imagine my life without you in it. I made a mistake and is entirely my fault. But please, please just listen to me." He was begging her.

He had become a man undone.

He thought he knew love when he was with Raven, but he had never been _in _love until he met Clarke. She was so charming, so intelligent, so eloquent and cool headed.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness because I know that's too much to ask for. What I'm asking for is just another chance to prove that you can trust me again. I'm all in, Clarke."

She stared at him for a long while. The rest of the restaurant had disappeared, and it was jus the two of them.

When he first broke up with her, she thought her world had crumbled around her.

But now a week on, with a plethora of new experiences under her belt, here she was reborn. A new world had risen from the rubble he'd left her in.

"Finn," she started, her stomach in knots, "I can forgive you."

He had a glimmer of hope.

"But I don't think I could ever forget everything you've done. I'm sorry, I wish I could, but I can't."

She let go of his hand, pulling it back to her side and standing up. On her feet, she looked down at him. She couldn't help but feel bad for him.

The truth was that she still cared for Finn, but she couldn't feel the same way she used to. She couldn't trust him again. He would always hold a place dear in her heart, but she couldn't let him in as deep as she once had.

"I'm sorry. I just can't."

She then realized that all the eyes around them were focused on her. It was obvious to everyone around them that there was trouble in paradise. She shook her head. "I don't think there's really anything else to say."

The hand she had let go of was now clenched into a fist. He was so angry, angry at himself for starting this, angry at her for not being able to forgive him.

He was quiet.

"Goodbye, Finn. I'll see you around work, but I think it's best if keep our relationship professional. We shouldn't see each other outside of the hospital anymore."

It hurt to let him go. It hurt her to hurt him. But a small part of her knew that this was the right thing to do.

So with that, she raised herself to her feet. She waited for him to say something, but he never did. She turned on her heel and prepared to head for the exit.

"Is it because of this new guy, because of Octavia's brother?"

She froze in her tracks.

He knew it wasn't fair for him to ask, yet he still did.

"That man is no good, and you know it.

She thought about responding, but she didn't. She just walked away, not looking back.

Finn watched her disappearing silhouette. He didn't know what to do anymore; he was lost. He'd lost Raven, and he'd lost Clarke. He knew he deserved it, but he didn't want to accept it.

Clarke left the restaurant and he knew he would never see her like this again.

Slowly, he took something out of his pocket and set it down on the table. It was a small, velvet box. He'd bought it months ago, waiting for the right moment to ask her.

He popped the lid open, revealing the big sparkler.

A few months ago, everything had been so different. He thought he would marry Clarke, and now he didn't even know if she would ever speak to him again.

**-p-**

Bellamy wanted to listen to her, but he couldn't.

Like the saying went, old habits died hard.

He found himself at the car repair shop that Murphy's uncle owned. He scouted the place out for about an hour when Murphy finally came out. The other man had his cap on backwards, just like he used to as a teenager.

Without warning, Bellamy got out of the car and came up from behind. Murphy sensed his presence and tried to anticipate the attack, but Bellamy was too fast. He pinned the other man down on the hood of his car, twisting his other arm behind his back.

He struggled for a moment.

"Nice to see you too, Bellamy."

"Don't even start with me, Murphy."

"You sound so worried. Your girlfriend tell you how I paid her a little visit today?"

Bellamy shoved him down again with more force, earning a grunt.

"What did you do, follow her?"

Murphy let out a wicked laugh, "It wasn't hard. She didn't even know I was tailing her until I rammed into the back of her car. She's quite the looker though, Bellamy. I never knew you could bag a girl that looked like that."

"You'll stay away from her."

Bellamy turned him around, landing his fist into Murphy's face. Only, he was hoping he'd do just that. On his way down to the cement ground, Murphy reached out and dragged the other boy down with him. They were tumbling on the cold floor.

"You're a bastard, Blake," he spat, "You should've stayed in New York."

"Like hell I should have. I need to protect Connor from the likes of you."

Strikes were exchanged on both ends.

"Oh yeah?" he was panting hard, "And then what? You going to run away like you always do, abandon your own son again?"

Bellamy hit him again.

"You don't deserve to be his father," Murphy kept going, despite the metallic taste that was dripping down his chin, "You're just as bad as our dads were to us. You talk about how you would never leave a kid, but you took off the first second you could."

They each took around three shots to the face when they came to a standstill. Both of them were on the ground, laying on their backs, both unable to move.

The air was silent, besides their mutual gasps for breath.

"You didn't deserve her, and you don't deserve to be his father."

The aggression had been expressed, leaving only thoughts now.

"You didn't even send any word. Eight damn years, Blake. Eight years and no one heard from you. Emily pined after you for all that, and it took freaking terminal cancer for you to come back."

Bellamy thought for a moment.

"And who are you? You slept with Emily right before I left for school."

He'd never confronted Murphy about it. But he was saying it now. "You talk about eight years. We knew each other for eighteen when you went behind my back. I was in love with her, and you betrayed me. "

Murphy shook his head, a bitter smile on his bloodied lip, "You were never in love with her."

Bellamy turned, eyeing the other man from the corner of his vision. "Maybe not like you loved her, but I did." Murphy's eyes widened a bit. Sure it made sense that Bellamy, being as observant as he was, would notice his lingering gazes towards Emily. Maybe even the smiles he gave her, or the soft words he'd use with her. But he had never spoken up about it before. "You didn't even bother to tell me that she was pregnant."

"Because you left!" He was so frustrated that it made him shake.

"You can paint me as the villain here, Bellamy. But you and I both know who's done wrong. I'll make sure to right your wrongs."

Bellamy couldn't bear to hear anymore. He had pulled himself up, using a nearby car to gain his balance. But then Murphy said something else that made him stop.

"Your new girlfriend's a cheat, by the way. I've been keeping tabs on her since you told Emily you guys were dating. I just got a call from my guy and she's out to dinner with some doctor boy right now, some guy with long hair."

Bellamy paused, not moving, his back still facing the other man.

"I guess you two just deserve each other."

Bellamy craned his neck, towering over Murphy who still laid flat on the ground.

"You stay away from me, you hear me? You stay away from Connor, you stay away from Octavia, and you'll sure as hell stay away from Clarke Griffin."

"What makes you so sure that your word means anything to me anymore?" Murphy spat out some blood.

The answer was simple.

"Because I'll kill you if you don't."

One look at his eyes and even Murphy could tell he wasn't kidding.

**-p-**

By the time Clarke got back to Bellamy's house, all the lights had been turned off. There was no one home.

So she came in and sat herself down at the kitchen table. She put down the two brown paper bags she'd picked up on her way back from the same diner Bellamy took her to earlier that week. She had her head resting on the palm of her hand, waiting.

About a half hour later, she spotted the headlights of his car through the window. She listened as the front door jingled as he unlocked the knob. She turned toward the direction he was coming in.

"You're late, Blake," she scolded, "I was going to start eating without you."

He didn't respond.

Her eyebrows knotted, and she stood up to see what was taking him so long to walk into the kitchen from the front door.

At first, all she saw was his shadow, and then his silhouette in the hallway. She squinted her eyes in the instant she realized he was holding onto the wall for support; right after she noticed he was limping. He came closer into the light, and she dropped everything.

"Oh my god," she whispered quietly, before she jumped to help him.

He let out a noise when she took his arm and slung it around her shoulders to support him.

His face was already bruising; there was blood running from his nose.

"What the hell happened to you?"

She knew from the second she saw him what happened, but she wanted him to confirm her suspicions.

"Murphy fights better than he did when we were teenagers," he cringed as she sat him down on one of the chairs. She kneeled down on the floor, trying to get better look at his injuries.

"You said you weren't going to look for him."

She stood up and got out the first aid kit she kept in the cupboard. She quietly thanked Jasper for remembering to bring it over from her apartment. She skillfully retrieved a few cotton swabs and bandages, then pulling out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol.

He hissed loudly as she placed the cloth to his face. She tried to properly make sure that his wounds were all disinfected, but he kept moving. "Hold still," she instructed.

But he didn't listen. Instead, he rose to his feet, too tall for her to reach his face with great precision. "I'm fine," he insisted, although he was swaying a bit because of the pain in his left shin.

"No, you're not," she tried to clean the cut on the bridge of his nose, but he turned away. When she tried again, he caught her wrist in his hand.

"I said I'm fine."

"Bellamy, sit down so I can just make sure you're okay."

He ignored her, trying to bypass her to go upstairs. He thought that if he could make it to his bed, that maybe he could sleep it off and be brand new the following morning.

"Oh my god," she repeated again, "How did you even drive home?"

He didn't respond, but she stepped in his way on the stair in front of him. From this vantage point, she was just as tall as he was.

"Out of my way, Princess."

"No," she refused, "What the hell is going on with you? Why won't you look at me?"

He hadn't realized that it had been so obvious.

"Where were you tonight?" he inquired seriously.

"I was here," she half-lied.

"Really," he scoffed, "You were waiting for me all night?"

"Hey!" she stepped in front of him again as he tried to pass her one more time. "What's your problem? No, I came here about thirty minutes ago."

"And you were with Finn?"

She narrowed her eyes, "Yeah, I was."

"You know what, Clarke?" he turned a bit away from her, "All of this was one big mistake. I shouldn't have asked you to get involved."

He went around her, but she was faster on her feet. She was on another step above him again. "I am involved." She repeated what Murphy had said to her that morning.

Bellamy sucked in his breath, putting a hand over the top half of his face. He was strong, he knew he was. But every great man came with his limits. "Well, you shouldn't be. I'm sorry. You're officially off the hook."

She was about ready to go off on him.

She was sick of it. She was sick of everyone apologizing to her, like she was just some passive doll who couldn't control anything around her.

She was a fighter who put herself where she was through sheer hard work and determination. People thought that since she had a charmed, well-to-do background that meant she grew up like royalty. Like hell. She suffered, and she had persevered. Some people thought money could solve all problems, but that wasn't true.

There was nothing more than she hated than this.

It was in that second that Bellamy looked at her.

He would never say so, but Murphy's words cut him down to size.

His mother had raised him to be better, yet here he was manipulating peoples' lives like they were his playthings. Clarke was a good person, and so was Emily. Even Murphy had his reasons. But Bellamy, no, he was a monster.

So he looked at Clarke right then.

He made a decision in that split second that he was going to let her go.

But if he was going to let her go, then he had to do it.

Without allowing himself think about it enough to talk him out of it, he stepped up and put his mouth on hers. He pulled her body forward, crashing into his. It started out as this slow burn, but it became like a wildfire they couldn't contain.

He was kissing her, and then somehow she was kissing him too. He kissed her like he couldn't breathe and her lips were air. His hands trailed to her waist, and hers to the sides of his face. All the pain, all of it just faded away.

For the girl who could never find the strength she craved, and for the boy who believed he was the world's worst nightmare—this was the first moment they had truly lived for themselves. They were imperfect and broken. But they were together in that instant, and that was all that mattered.

**Chapter 12**

**A/N: **This is the longest and the fastest pace chapter up-to-date with this story. I know a lot of you enjoy the slow burn, but I thought it was time to speed things up a bit. I worked very hard on this installment and hope it paid off. Please review if you like this chapter or would like me to continue!

Also, shameless promoting, but please please take a look at my other Bellarke story, "Long Live the King." Thank you again for reading.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The kiss scorched and her lips burned. It felt so good that she didn't even think to stop. But then he pulled away.

Almost as abruptly as he had pulled her in, his hands went from her waist to her shoulders as he gently pushed some space between them. It was dark now, but the moonlight was still shining in through the windows. He just stared at her like that.

She slowly opened her eyes, her mouth still open.

It was like what just happened dawned on her.

His hands were still on her, and they gazes were still locked. She was in a state of shock.

Physical intimacy wasn't a foreign concept to him. There had been other women before, many of them. But they just helped to perpetuate the numbness—Clarke was different. She made him feel more alive than ever.

Maybe that was why he was so afraid.

It took everything in him to break away from the kiss. It was consuming, he almost got lost in it. He wished he could forget about everything else. He wasn't reckless; he couldn't just do whatever the hell he wanted anymore.

He had Connor now to think about. And he was beginning to realize that he had Clarke too. He couldn't risk chasing her away because he had been impulsive. She was important, too important to use like this.

So many thoughts ran through her mind, yet she couldn't form any coherent words in her mouth. She couldn't make sense of things.

Bellamy Blake had just kissed her, and she liked it.

Different than the kisses she'd had in the past. Not the soft, careful kisses from Finn. There was a dual necessity and hunger in that kiss. He needed to kiss her, and she felt it.

And as he stared at her, with those dusty and intense charcoal eyes, she began to grow more aware of the thoughts in her head.

She knew he wouldn't say it, so she started before he could back out.

"We need to talk, Bellamy."

He sighed, finding himself covering the crooked smile on his lips again. He had always been used to being one step ahead of everyone else, and now he was having trouble keeping up with the blonde in front of him.

"Looking to you, Princess."

**-p-**

Two weeks passed since the incident.

The conversation that followed didn't surprise either of them, even if it wasn't something they necessarily wanted.

He paused for a while before he said anything else to her. The only sentence he could make out was that this sort of thing couldn't happen again. He liked it, because, in reality it was one hell of a kiss. But the connection between them would have to die. A fire threatened to burn too hot between them.

They both knew it.

So she just nodded, and told him she thought it was the right thing. She said she would forget about it, that he shouldn't worry.

Even so, he rubbed the back of his neck, wincing at the injuries he'd forgotten about. She helped him up the stairs and into bed. For the time being, she'd sleep in the guest room down the hall.

Pushing things away was all they knew. Confrontation was neither of their strong suits. For now, pushing away was the only option they were ready for.

For the most part, things carried on as usual. They were masquerading as the loving and stable couple ready to adopt a young boy. Connor hadn't come back to visit them.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that news of the brawl between Murphy and Bellamy reached Emily's ears. Clarke had been sitting outside her hospital room with Connor on her lap when they overheard the argument between Emily and Bellamy.

She was furious at the fact that he would resort that far to hurt their old friend.

He was livid that she blamed him for what happened. He told her that Murphy had crossed the line. He argued that he was only protecting what was important. He never took well to threats, and Murphy knew that better than anyone. He'd been provoked, and he took the bait.

Emily shouted back that it didn't matter. Responsible fathers didn't use their fists to make a point. She said she didn't want her son growing up like that.

She made him promise that he wouldn't do it again. Seeing no other way out, Bellamy conceded.

Today was the first day Emily agreed to let them take another shot at babysitting Connor. Bellamy planned to just spend the day with his son in the garage. He headed over another car shop across town. He didn't even try showing his face at Murphy's uncle's place. He might have been a cop now, but Murphy's folks were more gangsters than old childhood companions. He couldn't risk getting into another fight.

He drove his car over to a new shop. It looked run-down, like it hadn't been open in years. Skeptical, Bellamy got out of his vehicle and stood leaning on his driver's side door. He glanced at his watch on his wrist.

Clarke would be back by now. She'd insisted that he stop driving her back and forth to work. He was still wary of Murphy and whoever he'd hired to tail her, so he wanted to personally escort her to ensure her safety. But being Clarke, she told him to get lost. She could take care of herself.

He didn't like being contested, but he'd met his match with her.

He was about to head back to the house when someone called out. A girl's voice.

"You coming in, or what?"

He lifted his head, meeting the eyes of a young woman with dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She had this pissed off look on her face, and grease smeared up to her elbows. She was hastily wiping the dirt off with a towel before she swung it over her shoulder.

The girl might have even looked pretty if it weren't for that intense frown pulling down the edges of her lips.

"What's it to you?" he countered, tilting his chin up.

"I don't care whether you come in or not. I'm just tired of watching you decide if you're going inside or not. I'm getting ready to close up, so choose quickly," she shifted her weight to one hip and crossed her arm.

Her attitude reminded him of someone.

"Sweet ride you've got there," she suddenly transformed, her brown eyes suddenly fixated on his car, "A classic, right?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, his eyebrows furrowed as she approached the car and ran her hand over the hood of his car.

"1962?"

"1961," he corrected, half impressed.

"What's wrong with her?" she asked, not looking at him and concentrating on the automobile.

"She needs a new pressure regulator. You got one?"

She stood up straight, looking at him.

She studied him for a moment before extending her arm. Any person with an interest in cars was good enough for her. She'd been in this city for nearly a two months now and was just getting settled.

Her last tour had taken a major toll. After watching how fragile life could be, she decided to come home to what was most important. She found out that the one man she thought she could trusted didn't even wait ten months after she deployed to replace her with someone else.

He didn't love her anymore, not like he used to.

She was used to being first, so it was a rude awakening when she realized he had chosen another girl over her.

But she was strong, strong enough to fight through a war, strong enough to come back and readjust. She'd always been a skilled mechanic, even when she'd been a teenager. The local shop took her in immediately.

"I'll make you a deal," she suggested. He was listening. "How about I give you the pressure regulator, free of charge. But you have to give me some more time with this beauty in exchange."

He looked at her.

Bellamy wouldn't say he was the sensitive type, but he didn't have this ability to feel when someone needed help. He didn't know what this girl was going through, but whatever it was, this car offered her some sort of escape.

He knew better than anyone about escapes. So he decided to throw this poor soul a bone.

"You've got a deal."

She smiled a bit, before introducing herself and extending her hand. "Raven Reyes."

He took her hand, shaking it stiffly. "Bellamy Blake."

**-p-**

"We're going where?"

He couldn't have heard her right.

"The beach," Clarke repeated as she knelt down over the cooler that sat in their kitchen next to the fridge. She had been packing when Bellamy was on his morning run. There was ice, fruit, water, and three sandwiches.

"Connor doesn't want to go to the beach," Bellamy argued as he took a seat at the table next to her, sipping out of a glass.

"Kids love the beach," Clarke didn't look at him as she continued to pack the cooler.

"Clarke," Bellamy tried, "Connor wants to build a car, not get sand in his trunks."

She then shot him this exasperated look, standing up as his line of vision followed her movements.

"You two would spend the entire day in the garage if I didn't drag the two of you back into reality. I'm taking Connor somewhere new, and it's up to you if you want to come too."

He just looked at her, not quite sure of how to respond.

"I'm heading upstairs to change. When you make your decision, tell me. Connor will be here any moment."

As she left the room, he took another gulp of his water. God, had he met his match. He didn't give in, it wasn't in his character. But something about this girl made him listen.

He finally decided he would partake in her plans. He didn't even know if Connor knew how to swim, maybe this was his chance to teach the kid something knew.

Also, it wouldn't hurt to see Clarke in a bathing suit.

**End Chapter 13**

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't been posting. My schedule has been crazy, but I made time today to write this short chapter for all of you. The support is overwhelming and I thank you so much for continuing to read. I hope you liked this chapter.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Connor hadn't uttered a syllable since they got in the car. He sat up front, in between the two adults staring out through the windshield window with wide eyes.

Bellamy came up with the bright idea to take Octavia's pick-up tuck. Clarke might have wanted to go to the beach, but Bellamy insisted that they might as well stay out past dark to star gaze. The beach was good, but camping out under the night sky was even better.

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged amused glances as they observed the boy in their midst. He was so excited he was at a loss for words. The kid's eyes were nearly twinkling as he swung his feet in his seat.

"Calm down, little man. Or you're going to rock the whole car over," Bellamy joked, glancing down at his son.

Connor just beamed in response. His toothy grin was a familiar sight by now. He had warmed to his previously estranged father. But after a few weeks after entering his life, Bellamy had managed to gain some territory.

"Come on, Bellamy," Clarke chastised, pushing her sunglasses up so they rested atop her head, "He's just excited. I told you he'd love going to the beach." She smiled with satisfaction, basking in being right "Better than being cooped up in that stuffy garage, right Connor?"

Connor's head bobbed back and forth between them.

"Connor, don't answer her," he warned playfully, before leaning over a bit while still keeping his eyes on the road, "You can't make your old man look bad."

Clarke laughed, reaching over the boy and gently shoving the man in the arm, "You don't need his help for that."

He glanced back over at her, grinning. He was happier now. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled so much.

She found herself beaming back at him, only to force her line of vision away to her right.

They were getting so good at this act that it didn't feel like pretending anymore. The way she would unconsciously lean on his shoulder, or the way he would let his gaze linger a bit too long and a little too deeply—this was becoming more real, whether or not they cared to admit it.

Bellamy cleared his throat under his breath, bringing his attention back to the open road. There was hardly any traffic, even though it was the middle of the day. They were heading to this idyllic little place along the coast that Monty and Jasper had suggested.

The other couple had spent last weekend there and immediately suggested it to Clarke. It was private, with hardly anyone else crowded around. It would be nice to escape from prying eyes.

Bellamy took one look at the map and insisted that he didn't need a map for directions. He took pride in being able to find their destination on his own, even if the sentiment earned him an exasperated eye-roll from a certain blonde.

"Are we almost there yet?" Connor whispered, his eyes still round with anticipation.

"Almost, kiddo." Clarke answered, putting her hand on his dark head of hair.

Around ten minutes later, they arrived. The smell of salt in the air wafted through their open windows, and the sun shone even brighter than before. The wind by the water was stronger, but surprisingly gentle as well.

Bellamy parked off the street with another path leading them in close to the beach.

Bellamy grabbed the cooler and a couple of bags from the trunk and Clarke took the rest of their belongings as Connor jumped out of the vehicle and headed right off into the direction of the water. He was ecstatic.

He hadn't seen the ocean since his mother had become ill.

"Hey, slow down!" Clarke yelled after the boy, obviously concerned. She could only glare as Bellamy just laughed at his son's antics. Kids would be kids; there was no use in micromanaging from his standpoint.

The man shrugged casually, before nodding at Clarke and mock saluting her. "Understood, Captain," he said, then picking up his pace to chase after Connor.

The water today was this deep, rich, blue. There were rocks further out, but the ocean spread infinitely out to the horizon. True to Monty's claims, the place was all but deserted. Not another soul was in sight. It was just the three of them there, and it was so peaceful.

The sound of crashing waves against the sand was almost rhythmic.

Bellamy set down the things he'd been carrying, chasing his son into the water. He tore off his shirt before calling out, "Whoa, kid. You're going to give Clarke a heart-attack if you go off on your own like that."

Connor was smiling ear-to-ear, wiggling his toes in the wet sand. He'd stopped to stand in the water at his knees, closing his eyes briefly to take in everything around him.

A gleeful squeal escaped his mouth as he felt Bellamy reach around his stomach and lift him in the air. He was laughing as Bellamy hauled him horizontally back to the shore.

Clarke had her hands on her hips, waiting as the other man brought back the child in his arms. She tried to remain stoic, disapproving, but her eyes betrayed her.

She watched proudly. Connor had really taken to Bellamy recently. While the boy almost always ran to greet her first, he would almost always move to greet his father next. He was more talkative when they discussed cars and bikes, with Bellamy always secretly promising to take him out on the road whenever Clarke wasn't looking.

"I've brought you your prisoner, Captain Griffin," Bellamy reported with faux stiffness, setting his captive down on the sand in front of her feet. Connor rolled over on his back, looking up at her with a goofy smile on his face.

"Ha ha," she let out sarcastically, "Very funny, you two. But safety is a serious thing, you understand me? Don't blame me when the both of you wander out to sea without stretching, or sunscreen, or—"

She didn't get a chance to finish her lecture, when Bellamy and Connor leapt toward her in apparent coordination. She screamed as Bellamy swung her over one shoulder, ignoring her obvious protest and kicking. Connor ran after them, laughing as he watched them go into the water.

Bellamy ran far into the ocean, up to his shoulders, before he let her go. Clarke dunked all the way into the water, getting her clothes and her hair wet. By the time she resurfaced, Bellamy was thankful that looks couldn't kill.

The glare across her light features was threatening to say the least.

She'd told him earlier that morning she wasn't really a fan of swimming. She'd learned when she was a young kid, but she preferred walking along the shoreline and sunbathing. Collecting sea glass and sea shells were more her forte than athletic endeavors.

She should have known he was scheming when she spotted the smile on the corner of his mouth.

"You are dead, Blake," she spit out the saltwater from her mouth, "So dead," she repeated before jumping and tackling him into the water.

They played together, the three of them. When Bellamy couldn't escape Clarke's wrath, he resorted to using his own son as a human shield. There was a lot of splashing and a lot of laughing.

By the time they got out of the water, they were all starved. Lunch had passed a few hours ago, but they never really got a chance to eat anything.

When Clarke brought out the sandwiches she'd made earlier in the kitchen, Bellamy just shrugged. He handed one to Connor before grabbing one for himself. They sat in a small circle on the dry sand, Clarke and Connor wrapped in one big towel.

But when Bellamy took a bite, he nearly spit the food out at once. He coughed it out, eyeing Clarke who looked at him suspiciously.

She'd mentioned she didn't really know how to cook. Sandwiches should have been a safe bet. How she managed to mess them up, he had no idea. He was about to stop Connor from taking a bite but was too late.

Connor froze mid-bite, looking to his father. They held their gaze together, both wary of the woman in their presence. Careful not to insult her culinary skills that were clearly a work-in-progress, Bellamy quickly snatched the uneaten sandwich from his son's hands and hid it behind his back in the brief moment Clarke had turned away to grab a water bottle.

It was all a good effort to hide their distaste for her food, but Bellamy couldn't stop her from eating her own sandwich. She did manage to spit the food out in one go.

She took a whack at him, "Why didn't you tell me it wasn't good?" she demanded.

He laughed, dodging her fist, "It wasn't that bad, was it Connor?"

They turned their attention to the boy, whose mouth was wide open. He looked at them, slowly shaking his head.

Clarke couldn't stifle her own giggle then. She wrapped her arms around Connor, covering him with the beach towel that was around both of their shoulders, shaking him dry playfully. "You're one sweet kid, you know that?"

Connor smiled.

The sun was somehow hanging low to the horizon, large but setting, turning the sky this beautiful organish pink.

"Hey, kid," Bellamy tilted his head down a bit, "Want to go get us some real food from the cooler?" Luckily, Bellamy had added some more snacks before they left the house. Connor nodded obediently, standing up and running over to the cooler that was set down on the sand about a hundred feet away.

Clarke kept her eyes on the boy, never letting him out of her sight. She was always so cautious with him, she couldn't help it. He was vulnerable. He deserved someone to look after him the way he needed.

Bellamy loved his son, but he took a more laidback stance. He could sense Connor's maturity beyond mere precociousness. Connor was smart, he was sensitive. He would grow up to be a better man than Bellamy had ever hoped to be.

Bellamy took a seat next to Clarke in the short moment that Connor had gotten up. He eyed her wet t-shirt and shorts.

"I guess I should've waited until you stripped off to dunk you in the water, huh?"

She elbowed him in the ribs, satisfied as he feigned a flinch. She didn't want to admit that those rigid abs probably diminished any pain she tried to inflict on him.

"Admit it, Bellamy,"

He looked at her from the side, not realizing he was looking at her with an incomparable admiration.

She leaned in close, so that her lips nearly touched the nape of his neck, "You like the beach," she whispered under her breath.

He let out a breath, sighing to himself with a smile. "Yeah, alright Griffin. You win. I like the beach."

It was true, because he did enjoy the beach. But it was also true that he would enjoy being anywhere with her and Connor.

She gloated a bit, puffing out her chest.

"What if we just stayed here?" the thought just came out. It was an unintentional question, but an honest one.

Her eyebrows pulled over her eyes, "What do you mean?"

"What if we just picked Connor up, took him and didn't look back. Take him and just have him to ourselves, the two of us."

She paused, swallowing hard, "I love Connor," she admitted, "and maybe I could live a life on the run, putting up with you and spending time with that amazing kid," then she stopped herself, "But we both know that you, Bellamy Blake, won't run from anything. You slay your demons head on, no matter what happens."

He chuckled, shaking his head at the stupidly simple notion of up and taking Connor away. Things would be so much easier. Living with his son, living with Clarke. All of it just felt too good to be true.

And as the half of their agreement was rearing its head, he knew all too well that it was indeed to good to truly last.

"Yeah," he gave in, "You're right."

She shifted her weight so she bumped into him, "Tell me about it," she joked.

Connor came back, with a bag of chips and a couple of red apples under his arm.

"Ah, our savior," Bellamy remarked, catching one of the apples Connor threw.

They sat together, huddled close, just talking to each other. The sun wasn't so intense, but they managed to dry off. Clarke used to feel guarded around Bellamy, but in this context, she felt comfortable enough to not care what she looked like. Her messy curls with salt water were knotting at her neck, but she didn't both to comb them out.

She was wearing her shorts, but changed into one of the sweatshirts Bellamy had in the truck.

"You think there are fish out there?" Connor asked the two adults.

They both shared a knowing look, "There sure are, buddy."

"So, can we go fishing? I mean, with real gear and equipment next time?"

They both laughed, "Of course, kid. Next time I'll take you out."

"What about you, Clarke?" he looked at the light-haired woman. "Will you come with us too?"

She felt a small stab to her chest. "I'd love to," it was an easy answer, but one she knew one day she'd have to stop giving.

They talked for a few more hours before the sun had disappeared along the horizon and was replaced by a very full moon. They were in a rural area, so the stars were even brighter than any one of them could remember seeing.

Bellamy drove the truck through the path and onto the sandy beach, up and away from the shore to avoid high tide. They gathered some blankets, comforters, and pillows that had been packed earlier and set them up in the bed of the truck.

Connor was immediately thrilled with this new fort and dove onto their new sleeping area.

Bellamy shot Clarke a knowing look. After that night he'd kissed her, he'd promise to sleep away from her. Of course, nothing short of innocent would happen with Connor in their midst. But still, the close proximity could bring something up.

The attraction between them was still strong. He didn't say it, and neither did she. But both of them could sense it, enough that they had to consciously avoid it. Bellamy might flirt every now and then, but he never committed to anything.

Connor was their first priority.

They all lay down in the bed of the truck, as Bellamy pointed up at the stars above them.

Clarke was impressed by his extensive knowledge about each constellation. It turned out that he was an amateur stargazer, having taken to the hobby as a kid.

Bellamy never liked school all that much growing up, but he did like astronomy. There was something so interesting about the infinite and expansive unknown. Things up there were bigger than anything he or any other man could conjure up.

Connor was a fast learner, picking up the information quickly.

"At home, we won't be able to see them this clearly," Bellamy explained, "So next time, I can take you out again to get a better look. Maybe we can go camping,"

Clarke shot him a disbelieving look. Bellamy was a city boy through and through, "When did you ever go camping?"

He just smirked, before returning his gaze up at the dark sky, "There are still things you don't know about me, Clarke,"

Connor was the first one to fall asleep. Clarke had packed a single bottle of red wine, and pulled it out as soon as she was sure the boy had knocked out.

"You're a genius," Bellamy complimented as he took the first swig out of the bottle.

He handed it back over to the blonde, "I have my moments," she admitted teasingly.

They kept talking softly, careful not to wake Connor who remained in deep slumber.

"No way," she laughed, covering her mouth with the back of her forearm to keep relatively quiet, "They made you go hiking?"

Bellamy nodded, "They shacked a bunch of us teenage delinquents up in the mountains for a month and made us survive on our own. Up on this remote park upstate."

"Did it turn out like the Lord of the Flies?" she eyed him coyly.

He scoffed. His six months in a juvenile correctional facility at sixteen wasn't the fondest of memories he liked to relive. But if he was sharing it with anyone, he was glad it was with her. Besides, he liked hearing the sound of her laugh.

It was light—it made him want to laugh too.

"Not quite," he denied, "But it whipped me into shape after that. I was beat straight at that point, no more delinquency in me. By the time I got out, I knew I didn't want to cause any more unnecessary trouble."

She still had the nearly empty bottle of wine in her right hand, "I thought you said you were still a 'bad-boy.'"

He shrugged, reaching over across Connor to take the bottle from her. "Alright, I think you've had enough for one night."

He leaned over, setting up a pillow as he helped her lay down. He pulled a blanket over her form, watching her curl up next to Connor.

She had her eyes closed, but she still shifted around. Bellamy sat up, one elbow on his knee as he looked down at her.

He kept a watchful eye on the both of them, realizing only then how much he liked having the two of them there. Safe and sound, he felt like he could protect these two people who meant so much to him.

"I would do it, you know," her voice whispered, half-asleep.

He glanced down at her again, seeing her eyes still closed.

"Yeah?" he played along.

"I would," she affirmed again, "I'd run away with you and Connor, never looking back. In a heartbeat."

The alcohol was definitely helping her do the talking, but the sincerity behind her words was all her own.

He chuckled, before turning his head toward the midnight sky above them. "I wish we could, Princess. I wish we could."

**-p-**

They took Connor home the next morning, as Emily dictated.

Yet another week passed, and she was beginning to warm back up to Bellamy and Clarke.

But at the same time, Emily's condition was swiftly deteriorating. Her vitals continued to fluctuate, and her energy drained. She stopped having Connor come visit her in the hospital everyday, as she didn't want her son to see her like this. Emily had spent her short life making sure that she was strong enough to take care of Connor. But now she was looking all that strength, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Connor wasn't any normal kid, and he could see the difficulty and strain behind his mother's smiles. He grew quieter, holding onto Emily's hand whenever he was around. Watching her sleep was the most terrifying, because he was all too scared that she would never wake up.

Clarke had been assigned as additional detail to take care of Emily's case, as per the patient's demands.

"Hey, Emily," Clarke greeted softly as she entered the room, now filled with many bouquets of flowers. Customarily as a doctor, she would have asked, 'how are you feeling?', but abstained. This patient was a personal one.

So instead, she commented, "It looks like you have a few admirers," she gestured to the bundles of flowers surrounding the other girl.

Emily let out a dry laugh, "Yeah, I guess you could call him that," she paused, hesitating before continuing, "They're from John, John Murphy."

It took everything in Clarke not to twist her face in disgust at his name. The memory of him bumping into her car and the wounds he'd inflicted on Bellamy were still fresh in her mind. After all, it had only been around less than a month since then.

Bellamy never brought up Murphy again, probably to avoid any conflict.

"He's not the monster you think he is," Emily reasoned weakly, her voice breaking as she struggled to sit up. Clarke rushed to her side, holding the pillow behind her back, "Murphy and Bellamy used to be more similar than you can imagine."

Clarke didn't respond, so Emily just continued.

She gazed upon these yellow tulips set up in a vase at her bedside, "It's just that Bellamy found the courage to leave all of it behind, to get out. Murphy just stayed, probably because of me."

Emily was growing more reflective these days. She could sense the end growing nearer. It was bad enough that she would have to die young, it was even more horrible to know for months and months that she would have to die so soon.

The nostalgia hit her. She gestured toward a stool, "Please, take a seat."

"I need to take your vitals," Clarke reminded.

"Yeah," Emily swallowed, extending her arm out, "Go ahead."

Navigating around with a few of instruments, she pulled one out and wrapped it around the other woman's wrist.

"I forgive Bellamy, you know," she said quietly, staring at Clarke who was attempting to concentrate on the menial task at hand, "I forgive him for leaving me. And I suppose I can forgive him for leaving Connor too."

The words slipped out naturally, "Bellamy never left Connor on purpose," she defended instinctively, "He thought it was for the best."

Emily just laid back, staring out at nothing in particular, "That's the trouble with men," she breathed in dramatically, "They all say they think it's for the best."

Clarke looked back down.

She couldn't very well argue with a dying woman, especially as she looked down at her records on the clipboard. She blinked twice, looking back up from the paper to the woman in front of her.

Indeed, Emily was a terminal patient.

But that three month deadline another doctor had provided was running out faster than anticipated.

**End Chapter 14**

A/N: Thank you so much for all your support and help for this story! I've been busier recently, but I am trying my best to update as often as I can. As always, please leave a review if you would like me to continue.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Clarke didn't want to go to him for help. But she had no one else to turn to.

The last time they'd spoken, she'd told him that she wanted as little to do with as was possible. She hadn't been counting on the fact that he would be the only one who could do something for her.

She found him at his desk in a new office in the Oncology Wing. He had always excelled above and beyond as a student, as a doctor, and even now as a surgeon. It shouldn't have been a surprise that Finn Collins would be the first of them to get promoted.

She would have knocked if she wasn't in a greater rush; she was afraid if she waited too long, that she would back out. But this was necessary. She needed to do this for Emily, for Connor, and for Bellamy.

So she burst in through the door without warning, only for him to not notice her presence for a few moments. He was so deep in thought, staring at the documents in front of him, that he hardly noticed her presence.

"Hey," she breathed, gaining his attention.

He looked up at her, frozen in shock. Those same glasses he wore when studying sat on the bridge of his nose. "Clarke," he coughed out, standing up to welcome her.

"I need your help," she said simply. With no time for pleasantries, she pushed past him and placed a few x-rays on the lighted stand.

"What's going on?" Finn asked perplexed, following her.

She didn't answer him, only flipping on the light. His attention immediately turned to the scans on the screen. "Oh my god," was all he could get out, approaching the image more closely to get a better look. He took the glasses off his nose, "Whose are these?"

"Emily Sterling," she responded solemnly.

He continued to study the x-ray, nodding, "One of the patients in your rotations?"

She let out an unsteady breath, closing her eyes, "She's Bellamy's ex."

His neck snapped and his eyes were on her. She would sense his gaze even though she couldn't see it. She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Bellamy's ex?" he asked, clearly wanting some sort of clarification.

When she didn't provide any, he sighed loudly, turning back to the scans. She had told him that their relationship was strictly business. He understood that she was only coming to him on professional terms, that he had no right to press her for more personal information.

And as much as he didn't want to help anyone related to the man who seemed to steal the woman he loved away, Finn was someone with integrity. He never became a doctor for the money or prestige; he was a doctor because he was a pacifist at heart and never wanted to see anyone suffering unnecessarily.

He straightened out his back, and began to analyze. He held his hand out, rightly expecting the file that Clarke slipped into his grasp. He made notes as he went. Cancer was one of the cruelest killers, only because it was so widespread and because it was something that killed so slowly.

"She's late stage three."

Clarke nodded in confirmation. The cancer had progressed more quickly than they'd originally thought.

"Twenty-seven?" he asked, not for an answer, but only with sadness. He looked at Clarke. She was close to that, and he couldn't imagine losing her at that age.

"What do you need?" he asked without hesitation.

"Your professional, completely unbiased opinion." She wasn't specialized in oncology, and Finn just happened to be one of the best oncologists and surgeons in the entire tri-state region. He might have been young, but he had been recognized as an up-and-coming name in the field.

He stopped, swallowing pointedly, "She's got to be putting on a brave face, if you haven't been able to sense all the pain she's probably in at this stage."

That was true enough.

Bellamy and Clarke were opposites when they first met. But Emily and Bellamy were more similar, in their background, in their up-in-arms demeanor, and their adamant need to appear strong.

Clarke nodded wordlessly.

He pointed at the screen with his index finger, "These are relatively newly formed tumors that can't be removed from the lining of her lung tissue and now the larynx. They could be benign, but they're definitely obstructing her breathing big-time. Does she present any difficulty speaking?"

Clarke thought back, nodding in confirmation again.

Finn sighed.

She had seen that look on his face many times before. She'd seen it first when Finn's own father passed away, and then the second time when she'd told left him at that restaurant a few weeks ago. And now she was seeing it for a third time.

"How long does she have?" Clarke managed to get out.

"A few more weeks," Finn answered, his head hung low, "Maybe more if we do some more preventative treatment, or maybe some emergency surgeries."

"And then with the surgery?"

"A little more than a month, at best."

He hated giving bad news. He'd never been good at it. He was someone who wanted to help. It was just that he never realized hurting people as the bearer of bad news would be an inevitable part of his job description.

"Clarke," he put his hand on her shoulder, not as a romantic gesture, but one of support, "I know this woman is connected to you. But you have to know, that even if we continue with treatment, she will be in great discomfort and pain. The odds are against her in every sort of way."

Her lips pressed together, forming a tight straight line.

His shoulders slumped as he removed his hand. "What I can offer you is this," he went over to his desk, "If you want, I can switch my rotations with her attending oncologist. Maybe keep a closer eye on her treatment, see to it that she's got the best care."

If it had been anyone else, she would have questioned his or her motives.

But this was Finn. He might have been a cheating asshole who had broken her heart into a million pieces, but he was still the brilliant doctor with a compassionate soul. He would do it. If not for her, for the wellbeing of a dying woman.

"Thank you, Finn."

He hung his head down again.

It had been so long since he'd last talked to her. But now it was almost like all those weeks hadn't happened at all. It was like he was talking to her just like he was used to, like they did when they were still together.

He wanted to tell her that he missed her, but he bit his tongue.

"Don't mention it."

He sat back down at his desk, giving her a short and courteous nod as she collected the scans and placed the folder on the table in front of him. With a bittersweet smile, she left him just as she had found him.

As she walked through the halls, she began to think again.

She didn't have much to offer Emily in her last few weeks. But what she could offer was a good doctor, and the best care she could provide Connor.

**-p-**

She spent the night at Octavia's.

Clarke couldn't find the courage to tell Bellamy what she had discovered today about Emily. It was harsh enough. Bellamy had begun to open up to Clarke more and more as time went on. He'd revealed many things to her, but one thing that stuck was his childhood love for Emily.

How could she very much tell him that Emily's remaining days had been dramatically cut in half?

She couldn't, so she decided to escape to his sister's company.

Octavia was absolutely thrilled at the prospect of getting Clarke to herself for an evening. The brunette had been feeling like Bellamy had taken her best friend away, and jumped at the first opportunity of getting her alone.

A girls' night of gossip and food binging and movie watching had been wiped onto the agenda.

"This place is a mess," Clarke commented as she stepped into the other girl's apartment.

Octavia merely shrugged, kicking over one of the tops she'd left on the floor when deciding what to wear that morning. "Not messier than usual," she commented, before smiling, "We can't all be running a domestic household like you, now can we?"

Clarke rolled her eyes at the joke, collapsing on a spot on the sofa, "You Blakes really have some sense of humor, don't you?"

Octavia plopped down on next to the light-haired girl, a carton of ice cream and two spoons in her hands. She handed one spoon to Clarke, "Speaking of my brother, how is the idiot? He's been so busy he forgets to update his only sibling about his life."

It had been nearly three weeks since Bellamy and Octavia had seen each other in person. He had still been recovering from his injuries from his fight with Murphy in the parking lot. He didn't really have a chance to

"He's swamped at work," Clarke explained, "They're trying to hand off a bunch of different cases on him. Something about him being the first competent detective there in years."

"I'd believe that," Octavia commented, "This town's got more unsolved cases than anyone can count, and Bellamy's one of the best at what he does. When he was in New York, he kept getting promoted. I heard someone at his old office telling him how he thought Bellamy could be the youngest chief commissioner the city's seen."

Clarke thought about that piece of information for a moment. She'd always known Bellamy was good, but she'd never known he was that good. He'd truly sacrificed a lot in coming home. But at least for him, it was worth it.

"I have a question," Clarke announced suddenly.

The other young woman still had the spoon in her mouth, as she nodded to Clarke to continue.

"Can you tell me about Bellamy, Emily, and Murphy? I mean, I have the main pieces, but none of it really makes all that much sense. I don't understand how people who could have been such great friends could have turned out to hate each other to this extent."

Octavia let out a deep breath.

"Get ready, Clarke. This is a long story."

She shifted in her seat, readying herself.

"So, I'm sure you know, Bellamy and Murphy were pretty much inseparable growing up. They were both kind of rebellious, but Bellamy was usually the one who took charge. Murphy was strong and just as good of a fighter as my brother was, but somehow he just took the position as right hand man. He respected Bell more than anyone else. He would take a bullet for him."

That part of the story Clarke was already pretty familiar with. But Octavia continued on.

She scooped another ball of ice cream into her mouth, "So everything started to change when Bell took the fall for Murphy and went to Juvie. There was some major brawl that broke out, some guy ended up in a coma and passing a few days after the whole ordeal. Murphy was implicated in everything, but Bellamy just stepped up and took responsibility for it all. He never looked back—he didn't even warn me. Those six months of being locked up, young as he was, changed Bellamy. He started seeing Emily right before he went away. Word on the street is that Murphy started getting really close to Emily around that time."

That would explain all those flowers that Murphy had sent to Emily's room. The man was in smitten, hopelessly in more ways than one.

"Murphy was always dark. And when Bellamy came back, he was just different. He was still the same, but he just had his head on straighter. He still got into fights and trouble every now and then, but he was doing better in school and really caring about his future. I was just starting high school around then, and he was really stubborn about me doing well academically. He told me I was the smart one out of the two of us, and that I'd better make some use of it and become an astronaut or a doctor."

Octavia paused, before smiling.

"Obviously, the whole astronaut thing didn't work out."

Clarke let herself laugh a bit.

"Anyways, Bellamy just wasn't the same after that, and Murphy didn't like it. The two years after he came back, they were never as close. He resented Bellamy for taking the fall without even asking him. He thought he was betraying him by leaving him behind. And then there was that mess with Emily again. Bellamy was never the best boyfriend, and sometimes he treated Emily like she didn't matter. He cared about her, but not as much as he should have. That drove Murphy up the wall."

Octavia cleared her throat.

"The rest is history. Bell went to school in New York, and he and Emily eventually broke up. Murphy tried to pick up the pieces, but Emily was already pregnant with Connor at that point. We're all pretty sure that Murphy resents Bell for moving on, for getting out."

It was no new story.

"Bellamy would never admit it, but he still cares about Murphy. There's this big secret about what really happened that night that got Bell locked up. I'm not completely sure about what went down, but I'm just glad it's over."

Bellamy was a self made man who picked himself up from his own bootstraps. He didn't take anything from anyone that he didn't think he deserved. Defensive, self-righteous, but also protective and selfless—that was who he really was. It was all becoming clearer now.

"Emily just got caught up in it all, I guess. She loved Bell so much before he left, but she loved Murphy as a friend too at least. If you want my opinion, it was her feelings for both of them that tore her apart."

Octavia leaned back, placing the ice cream on the coffee table. "Emily isn't a bad girl, if I think about it. I've always been pretty bitter about not letting me see Connor when he was growing up, but I can see why she didn't want me around. It must have been hard, raising that kid who looks and acts just like his dad."

She looked at Clarke then, for a response of any sort.

"She's got it a whole lot worse than you think," she whispered under her breath.

"What do you mean?" Octavia sat up now, her eyes filled with genuine concern. "Is everything okay with you and Bell?"

"That poor woman," Clarke could feel her voice breaking, so she took another moment to collect herself, "She's got less than a couple of weeks left."

"What? How would you know that?"

"I noticed a few of her symptoms that were irregular. So I went to Finn, and he just confirmed everything I didn't want to be true."

Octavia's eyes were wide with uncertainty and mixed feelings.

"And now," Clarke went on, her breath hitching, "She's entrusting her son to a man who essentially abandoned her and his lying accomplice."

"Whoa," Octavia stopped her, putting her hands up, "What's going on, Clarke? What are you saying?"

She was going to say something else, but talked herself out of it at the last moment.

"Nothing," Clarke just shook her head, "It's nothing."

**-p-**

"So, how is she?"

"She's running like brand new," Bellamy announced proudly, tapping the hood of the car with his right hand. "Thanks to that new pressure regulator, she's in better condition than ever."

"Good," Raven agreed as she leaned against the car's body frame, "She's a good car that deserves the attention. Does she have anything else taken care of?"

He crossed his arms, smiling, "Not that I can think of. You did a good job."

She rolled her eyes at the compliment.

"Don't let that get to your head, though. You might be smart, Raven, but you're one major pain in the ass," he joked.

He'd been coming here after work before heading home for nearly two weeks. He'd left the car with Raven, and she'd fixed up the car faster than he could have. He wouldn't have said it loud enough for anyone to hear, but this scrawny girl had the makings to be a better mechanic than any greased up man that he'd met in his whole life.

"You give the Murphy's a run for their money, you know that?"

"Yeah," she scoffed, "Tell that to all their customers. I'm deserted out here without any work. You're the only client I've gotten since opening up shop."

"Hey," he shrugged, "You never know, your luck could change."

"Bellamy Blake," she laughed, "We both you're not that optimistic."

"Yeah," he agreed, with a grin, "Probably not," he leaned over to examine the contents un the hood of the car one more time. "She looks good."

"She better," the dark haired girl warned, "I've been working her hard every waking hour."

"Tell you what," Bellamy offered, standing up, "If you're really that desperate for work, I've got an opening. My kid's been trying to learn the basics in fixing cars, and it might be nice to show him around a real shop for once instead of the old garage back home."

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. "You've got a kid? One old enough to handle cars?"

Bellamy looked at her straight on, "Yeah, he's about eight, smart though. He'll be nine next February," he noted her expression, "What, you don't think I'm the kind of guy to handle a kid?"

She didn't bother hiding her disbelief, "No, man," she let out honestly. "But hey, more power to you."

She'd met guys like Bellamy her entire life. She'd been working with them since she could remember, out in the field, and in old mechanic work like this. They were all these gritty guys with attitudes. She could tell that Bellamy was different—he'd mentioned he was a cop and that he wasn't into stuff like that anymore. But having a kid, that was an entirely new level of responsibility she never thought someone like him could handle.

"Thanks," he said slowly, "So, do we have a deal?"

Raven shrugged, "Only because I want to see what kind of kid turned out to be with a dad like you," she joked.

He went back into the car to retrieve his wallet to pay Raven for all the good work she'd done for him. He leaned over into the passenger side window, when Raven spotted something.

"Is that your kid?"

She pointed to the printed photograph that sat on the passenger seat. It was the first picture on a pile in an opened envelope, its contents spilled out.

He turned to follow her line of vision. "Yeah, that's him. His name's Connor,"

"Cute kid," Raven smiled, taking a closer look as Bellamy got the envelope out for her to see. He wasn't the kind of guy to go around showing people pictures of those he found close to him, but what the hell. Raven seemed trustworthy enough.

Clarke had wanted to print out some of the pictures they had taken together on their trip to the beach. He wasn't the sentimental type, but he could tell that she was. He could sense that she was getting more and more aware of the impending due date to their agreement. They didn't talk about what would happen afterwards, whether she would really be involved at all in Connor's life after he gained custody.

Things were so complicated, and neither of them really knew what the other wanted.

But Clarke wanted pictures, and he was more than happy to comply if it saved her some peace of mind.

"Hm," Raven raised an eyebrow as she examined a picture of Connor sleeping in the bed of the pick-up, his cherubic face shining in the rising sun's rays.

Clarke had gotten the camera out before either he or Connor had woken up. She was snapping away on the device before Bellamy caught her and snatched it away.

"He must take after his mother, because that kid is way too good looking to be yours."

She half expected Bellamy to take a stab back at her, but he only agreed with her, "Yeah, he's pretty amazing. He doesn't take after me, that's for sure."

Raven smiled, sensing his honesty. She looked at the photo in her hand, feeling more excited to meet the boy in person. But then she flipped to the next photograph.

It was the same boy with dark hair and bright eyes, only this time he was sitting in the lap of a flaxen haired woman. They were both smiling, caught in the moment mid-laugh. It only took a moment, one flash and one image.

She could remember that face anywhere.

The same woman appeared in the pictures plastered all around Finn's apartment when he broke the truth to her. She was pretty, Raven could see that much was true.

So, this was the woman who Finn had grown so enamored with. This was the woman who took her place after only ten months after being deployed on tour. This was her.

Bellamy didn't seem to see her discomfort at the image. "That's Clarke," Bellamy said simply, not realizing the implications that came with it.

That face and that name, they would haunt Raven forever.

Clarke Griffin. A doctor, her ex's ex girlfriend, and the mother of her client's only son.

This mess was bad enough, but things were about to get a whole lot messier. And no one would be prepared for its aftermath.

**End Chapter 15**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

They had fallen into a dangerous routine.

She was never one to lose track of anything—she was on top of her work, detail-oriented in all ways. But somehow she didn't even begin to notice how accustomed she'd grown to his presence. She was used to seeing his face and hearing his voice when she came back.

She wouldn't even hesitate as they exchanged their playful quips. She didn't even realize the way the edges of her lips would curve up as soon as she saw him.

She had been working her entire life to prove her worthiness to all those around her. The fruits of her labor manifested in grades and status at work. But with Bellamy, she found herself not trying at all. She could relax.

For him, things were a bit different. He didn't really miss a beat with Clarke. He knew the whole time he was falling. Two months ago, she would have been the type of woman he couldn't stand; yet now, she was the only woman he really wanted to be around. He had his eyes wide open.

Maybe that was why he was so scared out of his mind.

Nothing was permanent here, all of it was instead just some temporary ruse with a deadline written on top.

A few days had passed since Clarke had gone to Finn and discovered the truth about Emily. It had been so blissful with Bellamy recently, so she just found reasons to postpone telling him what she knew.

He could tell something was wrong, but he didn't push her to share. He wanted to hear what she had to say once she was ready. Despite always being in the business of digging up secrets, he had too much respect for her to invade her privacy like that anymore.

The night was chilly. A summer storm had just passed, and the rain left the air refreshingly cool. He was sitting out on the stairs of the deck in the backyard, looking up at the stars behind the shifting clouds.

"You look deep in thought," Clarke commented, leaning on the doorframe. Bellamy had headed out earlier to measure the doors—he thought it might be nice to install sliding doors in time for when really Connor moved in.

It was a never-ending list of tasks, raising that kid. Connor would ask for one thing, and Bellamy would jump want to give him the world. He nearly had a heart attack when Connor asked for a dog. Clarke took one look at his face and cracked a smile.

Maybe she was the one who had underestimated him when they first met.

"Not really," he shrugged, "Just staring into space."

She didn't need to know him as well as she did to tell that Bellamy's mind was never blank. Even so, she brushed it off. His mind was never quiet, but oftentimes his mouth was. A man of few words, they used to call it.

The blonde made her way to sit beside him on the stairs.

Somehow she found herself closer to him than she expected, with her head resting peacefully on his shoulder.

There was still no explicit conversation between them about romance. There was a connection between them, but neither one of them had brought him or herself to really acknowledge it aloud.

"Thinking of anything now?" she asked later, her eyes glazed with tiredness. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

He was looking at her again with the same stare he always had when she was around. He smiled, "Yeah, I guess I am."

She raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

He nodded, shifting slightly so that his weight pushed back on her for a moment. "Yeah."

She shook her head in response, failing to hide the smile that still traced her lips.

"So I've got something a little weird to run by you," he broached. She looked back at him expectantly. "You remember that mechanic who fixed up my car?"

"Of course," she confirmed, recalling the story he'd recounted and laying her head back on his steady shoulder.

"I'm doing her a favor since she's not getting any real work lately. I hired her to come by the house tomorrow and teach Connor a thing or two about what's under the hood of that car."

Clarke shrugged, "I don't see why not. Connor will need to learn sooner or later to never send a man to do a woman's job. That girl must be running circles around you at that shop for you to ask for her help."

He put both his hands up in feigned offense, "I don't need any help knowing my way around my car. I'm simply being a good person and extending my hand to someone who needs the help."

"How selfless of you," she teased.

Without thinking about it, he wrapped his arm back around her shoulders, pulling her even closer. "Yeah, well maybe you should drop in on Connor's lesson. You could learn something."

She didn't resist his pull at all, falling comfortably in his grasp.

This was a dangerous trap they'd fallen into after all.

"Maybe I should."

**-p-**

"Get in the car, Octavia. At least let me give you a ride home."

"Like hell I will," the fiery girl spat. She'd been on some horrible dates in her life, but this night really took the cake. "Go home, Atom. I'll walk."

The dark haired boy had the driver's window rolled down. He had his arm sticking out of the car, leaning out in hopes of persuading Octavia to rejoin him inside the vehicle. He had been tailing her for the past twenty minutes at snail speed.

They had been having dinner together when he got a call. Octavia overheard the conversation any was anything but pleased.

"Murphy's an old friend, you know that. It's not like I can turn down work either. Your brother's not exactly in the right in all of this—"

"You two were friends," she said pointedly, bitterness in her mouth. It was like she couldn't trust anyone in this town anymore.

Atom pushed the brake, stopping abruptly as he faced the fuming woman before him. "Yeah, we were friends—until he strung me upside down from a tree overnight after finding out about us."

"He warned you," she argued, before pausing to add edgily, "And I was worth it."

Atom laughed a bit at the last part, "Yeah, you were," he agreed. "Come on, Octavia. Murphy was just calling to confirm my hours at the shop. I'm not into that stuff anymore. I swear I'm staying out of trouble."

She eyed him skeptically, her arms folded. She clearly didn't believe him.

Guys like that, they didn't always get out. Bellamy was the exception and had managed to scrounge his life together recently after Connor came into the picture. But most of them, they would fall back into the same cycle of danger.

"Come on, Octavia. Let me drive you home."

She let out a loud sigh. She took a few steps as if to get back in the car, but stopped at his side and pecked the boy on the cheek.

"I'll see you around, Atom."

She had been off an on with Atom since high school. The late night hook ups were all routine at this point, but maybe Clarke was right. Maybe Octavia could look for something knew. Atom was sweet, but he was definitely still trouble.

He was obviously ticked off, but he could respect her decision. He pressed his lips together, placing his hand back on the wheel.

But before he left, he decided to give her one more warning. "Tell Bellamy to be careful. Murphy's more ticked off than ever since that fight they had in the shop parking lot. He's plotting something."

Her defined eyebrows knitted together, "What fight?"

Atom let out an exasperated breath. "Ask your brother. And tell him to watch his back, I swear. I'm not in on it, but I'm sure Murphy doesn't take that kind of beating lying down."

She didn't even have a chance to press for more information before he had his foot on the gas again.

"You take care of yourself, Octavia."

And with that, he sped off, leaving Octavia alone on the side of the street at two in the morning.

Bellamy always had his reasons to keep things from her when they were growing up. But now Octavia has someone on her side who she knew would have to give her some answers.

She took out her phone and dialed the number without looking.

_"__Hello?"_

"You've got some explaining to do, Clarke Griffin."

**-p-**

Clarke looked down at the mug in her hand. She'd had six cups of coffee already this morning, and none of the caffeine seemed to settle her nerves nor wake her up.

Octavia's interrogation was exhausting. The dark-haired girl had gone on a rant for nearly an hour last night, and still wanted to chat sometime soon to flush out the rest of the details. It was safe to assume that Octavia was ticked for being pushed out of the loop.

"So you see this portion right here?" the tip of his pen pointed to part of the image on the X-Ray, and Clarke flashed back to what was happening in the moment, "That's what's taking over the whole cluster."

Finn was studying Emily's latest scans. Clarke had joined him in his office once again, bracing herself for another update.

Emily was not doing well.

She was growing more ill by the hour. Connor had only visited his mother once in the past two days because Emily wasn't well enough to receive any visitors. She was living with tubes sticking into her body.

Her features were even duller.

As Clarke went to her room to run vitals again, she was reminded once more how serious this situation was.

"How long?"

The insides of her chest twisted around as Clarke waited for him to answer.

He didn't hesitate in giving his diagnosis, trying to maintain some semblance of professionalism in this very personal case. "Less than a week now. Maybe a few days."

Clarke couldn't breathe. She should have let Bellamy know earlier what she had found out. Maybe that way she could help him better prepare for the inevitable.

"Clarke," Finn said, his voice serious. "You should get ready."

Emily was always a terminal case—but now she was actually in the process of dying. Her organs were beginning to fail. It was all so painful and relatively slow.

"Let Bellamy know as soon as you can. Connor too."

Finn was filled in on the whole arrangement at this point. It didn't take a genius to connect the dots between Emily's impending passing and the need for a responsible guardian. Her relationship with the brooding detective was all too fast and too reckless.

Finn thought he knew Clarke better than anyone. Only, he didn't know the truth, that fast and reckless were just what had attracted her.

"I will," she responded shortly.

She glanced down at her watch. She needed to get going—Connor had probably just been dropped off. She'd need to get back in time to help with dinner and play the part of the loving girlfriend and step-mother that came so naturally.

She was headed for the door, before she looked at Finn one more time.

He refocused on the scans again. She could see the pain in his eyes of helplessness. He shared her passion for helping other, and he would go to the end of the earth if it meant saving one of his patients. Emily was a special case; nothing could be done.

"Hey, Finn," she cleared her throat a bit.

His eyes flicked back to her form.

"I just wanted to say thank you, again. For everything you've done."

He shot her a half-smile, "Don't mention it."

"How are you?" the question came out of her mouth without permission. As happy as she was in the world she and Bellamy had created for themselves, she couldn't help but wonder how the old parts of her life were doing. Finn would always be connected to her.

"I'm good," he fibbed, "I moved out of that old apartment into a new place downtown. Thought it would be a nice way to begin a fresh start."

"Good," she affirmed simply, "That's really good, Finn."

"It's nice seeing you around recently," he remarked, a full smile on his face now. "Don't be a stranger. I'm always here for you, you know that."

When she first found out that Finn had cheated on her, Clarke was absolutely devastated. She never imagined that her life could continue moving as it did. But now, things were different. Here she was, conversing with him at work, without any overpowering feelings of hurt or betrayal. She had forgiven him in most ways.

A part of her knew that her forgiveness had everything to do with the two other new men in her life.

"I'll see you around," she waved good-bye.

He mimicked her motion, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her leave.

After she'd disappeared, he let out a loud sigh.

He had been missing Clarke, and it was a relief to have her back in his life, even if only professionally. Their relationship was civil, and he could live with that for now. He winced at the thought of Raven, whose reaction to the truth was anything but civil. She didn't even speak a word to him since.

Whatever Raven was up to now, he hadn't the slightest clue.

**-p-**

"Connor," Bellamy had his hand on the boy's shoulder, giving him a slight push forward, "This is Raven, a friend of mine."

Connor looked up at the woman before him, his eyes narrowed. He was always apprehensive around strangers, and now was no different. But this person had a kind smile on her face.

"Hey," Raven knelt down, "Nice to finally meet you, kid."

The boy didn't take her extended hand.

"He's shy," Bellamy backtracked, collecting Connor again as the boy hung onto his father's side. "We should probably get started," he gestured to one of the cars already parked in the garage.

"Putting me on the clock already?" Raven raised her eyebrows jokingly, "That's fine. Come on, kid, let me show you how a professional does things."

She made her own way and popped the hood of the car leaning over to a get a closer look. With her hand, she beckoned Connor over. Naturally, his curiosity won over and he joined her and listened to all of her explanations.

Bellamy laughed to himself at that sight. He was practically beaming with pride.

That was when he heard another car pull into the driveway. Clarke was back. He looked back to make sure that Raven and Connor were alright on their own before he went to greet the light-haired woman as she exited her vehicle.

"Sorry I'm late," Clarke apologized, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, "I got caught up with something at work." As she looked at his face, she was contemplating the different ways to tell Bellamy about Emily. She wanted to say something. But then, maybe she should wait until Connor went to sleep so she could speak with him alone.

He eyed her cautiously. It seemed like she had been getting caught up with a lot of things at the hospital recently. But he stuck with his better judgment and ignored that thought.

"Not a problem," he brushed off, "Connor's already neck deep in his new education."

She laughed, rolling her eyes again, "I'm sure he's in love with this new mechanic."

"Come on, let me introduce all of you."

Clarke shrugged, liking the return of the warmth inside her chest whenever she came back to the house. It was so peaceful and private—she felt like she could be whoever she wanted to be without hawk's eyes staring down at her every move.

The first thing she saw when walking into the garage was the back of Connor's jeans. The kid was leaning into the car at a far angle. She also saw loose pants fitted on what appeared to be a slim woman.

"Hey, careful there," Bellamy picked Connor up from his midsection, lifting him out so he could stand on his feet. "You don't want to get lost inside there, buddy, trust me."

"Clarke!" Connor exclaimed, jumping towards her and latching onto her leg. "When did you get home?"

"Only a few minutes ago," she answered, smoothing down his curly brown hair affectionately.

"You were pretty quiet," the stranger's voice interjected, "I couldn't even tell that you were coming in, must be a habit."

Clarke narrowed her eyes, ready to retort when the other girl straightened up. The look in her eyes was enough to quiet her thoughts. The blonde extended her hand. "Hey, I'm Clarke."

The darker skinned girl removed one of her gloves, "I'm Raven."

Bellamy stood to the side, watching this encounter cautiously. Something clearly was wrong, he just couldn't tell what.

Clarke looked at this girl again. She felt like she recognized her somehow, like maybe they had met before and just forgotten. Her name was on the tip of her tongue, when suddenly all of the pieces were fitting together. Her mouth was practically wide open, but she at least managed to form the next few words out from her lips.

"You're Raven Reyes."

**End Chapter 15**

A/N: I would first like to apologize for how long it took to post this new chapter. It's not a new excuse, but I have been extremely busy. I'm very sorry that I have to tell you guys that I probably won't be posting new chapters anytime soon. I'm leaving for school tomorrow morning (and will be even busier), and only posted today because I felt I owed it to any readers to give a little bit more. Nonetheless, I hope you will continue to follow this story if I find the time to keep going.

I hope you liked it, and thank you so very much for reading.


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